The Contract
by penguin-graduate
Summary: A double sided marriage. On the outside, they clasp hands, standing and smiling at the clan elders. Behind closed doors, one is coldly indifferent and the other – spiteful. How did all of this start? More importantly, how did it end? ItaSaku
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

 **Disclaimer:** Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto!

He felt ill in every crevice of his body, sneaking around his own home in the middle of the night. Softly, he pulled the front door to his home open and slipped into the silent night. He darted across the roofs, blending with the shadows and allowing the moonlight to illuminate his path. If there was every an absolute truth in this godforsaken world, it was that he hated _this_.

The man stared at him, a dangerous and calculating glint in his eye. Finally he spoke, "There's no other way, we've exhausted all other options. Your cousin even tried – "

The boy, emboldened by desperation, cut him off, "No, there must be another way. I cannot – I will not do what you are asking of me." He curled his hands into fists and tried to disguise his fury – and his despair.

Danzou gave a low laugh. "The other option is a civil war, Uchiha. You best make your decision."

Until now, the other man in the room had remained silent. Thin lips were pursed and he gave a long exhale. "I'm sorry, we tried, we really did. But the situation has become too dire – we need to take action now!"

The boy spun on his feet, facing the man who had spoken. Eyes a glaring red, teeth clenched, he lifted his finger and pointed at him accusingly. "You promised it wouldn't have to come to this! Do you understand want you are suggesting? There are children – my brother... What about my brother?"

The man shook his head and made his way over to the boy. He placed a large hand upon his shoulder in what was intended to be a reassuring gesture. "Your brother will be spared and protected. This I promise." 

The boy bowed his head in acquiescence.

"Tomorrow, it will be done," said the man, a resigned tenor to his voice.

"Yes, Hokage-sama."

888

In less than 24 hours, everything would change. The boy stared up into the sky, silently willing the sun to stay afloat for an hour longer, a minute longer, a second longer. He had been in the training grounds, physically preparing himself for what promised to be an arduous night. Now that his cousin had left him, he was alone and now was psychologically preparing himself – if such a thing could be possible. He recalled the solemn words of his father, _if you can distance yourself from emotions, you eliminate the most persistent of obstacles_. How he wished he could. The boy reluctantly removed his gaze from the sky and closed his eyes – perhaps some meditation would calm him. 

Wailing. He could hear incessant wailing. The boy scrunched his eyes and attempted to remain focused on his breathing. But that cursed wailing was getting louder by the second. If he listened hard enough, he could detect laughter – a mocking, jeering laughter amidst bawling. He sighed and resigned himself to ending the source of this noise.

Upon finding the source, he was presented with a rather strange finding. A group of young boys – perhaps his age or younger – were clustered around a battered and small-looking child. They were located in a secluded alley, away from the main bustling streets of Konoha. The boys emitted gleeful sounds of derisive laughter, while launching small pebbles at the child, a girl. At this, the boy reasoned that their amusement at her expense hurt more than the physical punishment of the rocks.

The girl was crouched low on the ground, her cries reduced to pitiful whimpering and sniffles. She used an arm as a protective covering for her face, and the other hand was grasping wildly at the boys around her. Perhaps, she was searching for something?

The boy tilted his head and regarded a tormentor who had an arm raised away from the reaches of the girl – in his fist, he clutched a bright, red ribbon.

"Is this necessary?" The boy spoke softly, his head slightly tilted as he watched the reactions of children before him.

The girl raised her head, wide eyes locking with his and he noted how young she was. An easy target for the abusers.

One of the other children spoke up, face twisting scornfully, "Mind your own business – got nothing to do with you, yeah?"

The girl was long forgotten, their attention had already shifted and the tormentors surrounded the new arrival – for only a fool would dare challenge a group of rowdy boys alone. They did not notice the boy's easy grace, his unperturbed stance, or his aura of indifference. They saw a challenge and eagerly rose to accept it.

It was too easy for the boy – they posed a minute threat, barely registering on his radar. If the girl had been any other age, the boy would not have even bothered. But it was only too simple to swap her presence for the boy's little brother. And he would never, under any circumstances, leave his little brother to fend for himself in such a situation. So the boy sighed, and raised his gaze to meet those of the instigators.

His eyes flashed red and that was all that was needed.

888

They were lounging in the park – a boy of no less than thirteen and a girl of no more than eight. The pair made quite a sight – a paradigm of the utmost juxtaposition. The girl filled with brightness, life and vivacity. Her coloring lustrous and loud. Her smiles, wide and shining. She pranced around him, her laughter and words filling the air melodically. The boy held onto a brooding aura which gave hints of a simmering rage just beneath the surface. His movements, slow, graceful and calculated. His scarce voice carried a hard edge to it. 

Others around him were acutely aware of him, but the girl? _No_ , she remained oblivious. Her portrait of him already painted and framed.

The girl said his name. "You really should smile more," she said, a scolding tone in her voice.

He indulged her and forced a small smile to slide onto his face. "Is that better?"

"It could be bigger."

"It really couldn't." The boy stood suddenly, eager to remove this persistent pest from his hair. He reached for her hand. "Come now, I'll take you home to your parents – you just need to show me the way."

She grinned and laced her chubby fingers through his. Dirt smears covered her hand, but he didn't seem to mind too much. The girl began to pull on their intertwined fingers, tugging him in the direction of her home.

As they neared her house, the atmosphere became noticeably more oppressive. Was it due to the girl's unwillingness to part with her newfound friend or was it due to the boy's silent contemplation of the dipping sun?

The girl spoke softly, her words nervous, "Do you notice... Do you notice how the other villagers avoid us? It's been this way since this afternoon."

The boy saw no danger in imparting more than what was necessary – seeing that his minutes were numbered in this village. "They are smart to be afraid."

"Afraid? Afraid of what?"

"Of me." 

His words were spoken so quietly the girl almost didn't catch them. "Why should they be?" She wondered aloud, innocence evident in her question.

"Even if they do not know yet, they can sense what I am. How me and those alike me are a blight to this village. More of a danger than an asset. Something to be watched and feared, rather than respected and revered. And now it is too late," he explained, although more to himself than anyone else.

At this point, the girl was confused at what was causing her friend such distress. "I don't fear you. You saved me from those bullies!"

"Because you don't understand yet. And I only did what I had to do."

Not understanding his line of reasoning, the girl stopped abruptly, her small fists on her hips. "That doesn't make sense. You could have walked away and ignored it. Other people did!"

"I only did what was right."

"See? That's what makes you different from others!" The girl had a large grin plastered on her face, as if she had reached some life altering epiphany. "You always have a choice. And I know you will always choose the right one!" In her newly discovered universal truth, she threw her arms around the boy in a hug.

Never in his childhood – if it could be considered such a thing – had anyone other than his brother displayed such undisguised and pure affection towards him. Really, the girl's personality and his brother were almost interchangeable. He gave a rare genuine smile, not that she could see it, as he was a significant portion taller than her. "And what is the right thing to do?" He asked, deciding he wanted to hear more of her train of thought.

"To protect your precious people, of course," she replied, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

At this, the corner of the boy's lips tugged downwards. He thought of his stern father, his warm mother and lastly of his innocent brother. His thoughts drifted towards the impending night, the sun already beginning its quick descent beyond the horizon. He thought of his options and the man's words yesterday. He thought of his future and concluded that he couldn't really see it. "And what if you can't protect all of them?"

In her absolute naivety she responded, "Then you're simply not trying hard enough."

888

And that is the story of how a pink haired child saved the lives of hundreds and altered the life of one.

 **A/N:** This is a project for the summer, something I'm doing for personal enjoyment. But if it brings other people joy then so be it. Send me a message if I have any typos or grammatical mistakes please! I tried to catch all of them.

Not too sure where I want this fanfic to go yet – we'll see when we get there I guess!


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 **Disclaimer:** Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto!

"Alright, Naruto, Sasuke, you're dismissed. Sakura stay back," Tsunade said in a clipped tone.

They had just returned from a mission in Suna – if one could call it that. Really, it was a thinly veiled excuse for Naruto to visit Gaara. When they had arrived in Suna, they were sent on a mundane task and then had proceeded to spend the remainder of their time relaxing with Gaara and his siblings. So much for duty.

Yet, Sakura grinned to herself as she thought of Gaara's open nature around them, filled with easy smiles and the occasional joke – a side he didn't show to anyone else.

"Sakura."

Tsunade was staring oddly, honey eyes fixed upon Sakura in an appraising manner. Then, uncharacteristically, she dragged her eyes from the top of Sakura's head all the way down to her feet, then back up. The unwarranted scrutiny was making Sakura squirm uncomfortably.

"Tsunade-sama? Is there something you wanted me to do? Perhaps some paperwork, or a hospital shift…" Sakura trailed off, shifting under the Hokage's heavy gaze.

"Sit down. You're going to need a chair, I promise you."

Sakura obliged, unsure what to expect from her teacher anymore. "Is something the matter?"

"Tell me what you know about the Uchiha clan."

"Well, they're a powerful clan in Konoha. Um, they lead the police force, they possess the sharingan, they were one of the founding parties of Konoha – is this about Sasuke?"

"No. Do you know that many years ago they planned to stage a coup to overtake Konoha?"

Sakura stilled, her fidgeting fingers dropped to her lap and she gave Tsunade an incredulous look. "Impossible, they are completely loyal to Konoha."

"Ah, but it still happened. They were close to taking treasonous actions against Konoha, but certain… obstacles arose. Ones that they did not account for and their initial plans failed."

The student thought about the inexplicable isolation of the Uchiha clan, their compound away from the center of Konoha even though they headed the police force of that very village. It was odd, but Sasuke had never questioned it, so then why should she have? She tilted her head, looking past the Hokage to peer at her undisrupted view of the village below. "They may be loyal to Konoha now, but they're not completely trusted, are they?" she asked.

"Hm, perceptive. And no, they are not. They have been seeking to remedy that for the last couple of years and now they think they've found a solution. They think this solution will bring the clan closer to Konoha's governing affairs and forge bonds that they can use."

"And pray tell, what's their solution?"

"A marriage."

"Interesting concept, it could work – if the right parties are involved. It wouldn't be the first time such a tactic has been employed politically." Sakura pursed her lips thoughtfully, oblivious to the unspoken implications of why her Shishou was discussing this with her.

"Right, it could work. If they had picked different people."

"And who did they pick, Tsunade-sama?"

"Uchiha Itachi," Tsunade hesitated. "And you."

Sakura's day up until this point had been quite typical. The weather was nice, her journey to Konoha went uninterrupted and she was looking forward to perhaps a meal at Ichiraku with her teammates later. It seemed that her good mood was going to be fouled by this particular news. She stood up abruptly, the jerky motion of her legs sending her chair crashing to the floor dramatically.

"No, absolutely not. That's impossible – I don't even know him!" Sakura's voice escalated until she was practically shouting at Tsunade, her eyes wide with incredulity.

"Calm down Sakura, I know you don't want this – but you have to listen to me."

"Tell them I decline. I don't care what they're offering me – they could give me all the money in the world and I would still fucking decline."

"Listen," Tsunade hissed, eyes narrowing dangerously. "It's not that easy Sakura. You can't just decline something like this. Especially, _especially_ when clan heirs are involved."

"And why not?"

"Most of the clan has probably already been informed of Itachi's engagement to you. They're probably all eagerly preparing to celebrate once it has been officially announced."

Sakura huffed, folding her arms across her chest and matching Tsunade's steely gaze. "So what of it? Their arrogance in believing my acceptance before the question was even posed is not my problem. My answer remains the same – _no_."

"It is not so easy, Sakura! These matters are delicate. Clan ego is fragile. If you were to reject such an eligible bachelor without a reasonable excuse – that would be considered disrespectful. It would only strain relations even more. They would think your refusal is out of spite."

"But I don't know him," she managed to grind out. "How is it unreasonable for me to refuse to marry a stranger?"

"Like you said, this is not the first time a marriage has been proposed for political agendas. They are expecting you to put the good of the village before your own personal interests."

"But I'm not even related to you, I'm only your apprentice."

"You know you are like a daughter to me, Sakura," Tsunade said softly, offering her student a small smile.

At that Sakura faltered. "And you're like a second mother to me. But I can't marry him."

"Can't or won't?"

"I won't."

"Why?"

Now she was truly stuck, her opinion of the Uchiha clan was distasteful at best – she had seen enough of Sasuke's family to know that she never wanted any part of it. Yet, here she was. Tsunade was offering her everything she did not want in a family on a silver platter. But she couldn't speak so freely to her teacher – her personal opinion of them was offensive, to say the least. So, Sakura opted for a vague answer, something about true love and soulmates.

"I said, _why_ , Sakura," Tsunade prompted again.

And Sakura knew she was required to answer truthfully this time. "Have you ever been to the Uchiha compound, Tsunade-sama? Sometimes after missions I go with Naruto to eat dinner with Sasuke's family," she paused, mulling over her words. "It's awful. The atmosphere is oppressive. I'm scared to say anything because anything could be considered impropriety. And Mikoto-san – I know myself well enough to know that I never want to be where she is."

Tsunade said nothing, waiting for Sakura to explain her words, especially about Uchiha Mikoto.

Sakura clenched her fists and lowered her gaze. She could not handle eye contact as she hastily whispered her next words, "She's a shell of a person, Tsunade-sama. She's nothing more than a submissive housewife. She lacks a backbone and allows her husband to use her as a doormat."

Silence descended upon the office and Sakura took to peering at the view beyond the window. The air inside was becoming stifling, but perhaps that was due to Sakura's rising body temperature and tense posture. To say that her words would have a severe backlash if heard by the wrong people was an understatement – she had just called the Uchiha matriarch a doormat.

Tsunade nodding, understanding Sakura's reasoning. After a moment, she began slowly, for she did not want to provide her student with false hope. "There is a way out of this proposal."

"Really? What is it?" Hope alighted Sakura's apple green eyes.

"It is the general consensus that in terms of status and wealth, Uchiha Itachi is a very eligible bachelor. His personality may be lacking – but, anyways, if you could demonstrate that he is … lacking in certain aspects, then a rejection of their proposal would be accepted."

" _Lacking in certain aspects,_ " Sakura repeated, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. It seemed too easy of a solution. "What aspects?"

"Mainly his ability to successfully fill the role of a protector."

"And how would I accomplish that – the man has been an ANBU captain since he was thirteen for god's sake," she huffed, beginning to believe that the solution was not going to get her anywhere.

"It is a bit traditional and such a procedure hasn't been used in some time. I'll dig up the necessary paperwork – but it is essentially a match, a duel." Tsunade paused, then fixed a serious expression onto Sakura. "Listen, if you can defeat Uchiha Itachi in an individual duel, then you would have enough sustenance to claim that he would be ill suited to fulfill the role of a familial protector. Then you could reject the proposal, and the clan would be forced to accept it. To reject their proposal without any basis would only make relations worse at this point."

A smirk materialized on Sakura's face, her eyes gleaming with excitement for her future challenge. Defeat Uchiha Itachi? Her freedom was on the line now, certainly that would provide her with enough motivation to defeat the clan heir.

"Sakura!" Tsunade slammed her hands down onto the wooden desk, regaining her pupil's attention. "I know you've sparred with Sasuke many times before and you've won some of them. But remember this, Uchiha Itachi is light years ahead of Sasuke – he possess innate talent as well as rigorous discipline. I'm not even sure if Sasuke will ever be able to catch up to his brother. This will not be an easy battle. There is the high chance that you will lose."

"I know Tsunade-sama. But my freedom is my main incentive – and you can bet that the day I marry him is the day hell freezes over."

"No, but that's just it Sakura – there is no plan B. If you lose this battle, you will be marrying Uchiha Itachi, there will be no excuses and no fighting. You _will_ be submitting to the whims of the Uchiha clan."

888

Other than her rather interesting and life altering conversation with her Shishou, her day had progressed as expected. Now, in the late afternoon light she was sitting at Ichiraku with her two teammates, forcing herself to enjoy the steaming bowl of ramen in front of her. Although, try as she may, her enthusiasm for the dish was lackluster in comparison to Naruto's loud slurps.

At some point when Naruto had had his fill of ramen, he turned to Sakura, a question on his tongue. "So, what did Tsunade want to talk about with you? You were in there for an awfully long time."

"That's Tsunade-sama for you," she said chidingly, but her voice was lacking its usual bite. "She wanted to tell me that Uchiha Itachi is planning to get married. Did you know that?" Her ending question directed to her usually reserved teammate, Sasuke.

But with her question his typical unaffected persona dissipated. With eyebrows raised and surprise coloring his words, he asked, "Who is he planning to marry?" While Sasuke's family may not be as personal with one another as compared to other families, Sasuke believed himself to be close with his brother. Surely, his brother would have informed him of such a significant development. Although, there had been rumors floating around the compound, they were never confirmed by his parents or his brother.

"Yes, that is the big question isn't it," Sakura said, a wistful tone to her words.

"Do you think it's Hinata?" Naruto wondered, concern suddenly flooding him. Such a match would be beneficial to both clans and was probably considered a highly favorable course of action. Yet, Naruto couldn't bear to see the shy heiress forced into a marriage with the seemingly cold Uchiha.

"Possibly," Sasuke interjected, seriously considering the match. "It makes sense, they're both heirs to their clan. It's probably even more advantageous considering her demure nature."

Sakura was staring into her broth, trying to catch her flickering reflection. " _Please_ , by the time I'm done with them, they'll wish they had chosen Hinata," she muttered under her breath.

"What was that, Sakura?" Naruto turned to her.

"They are not matching Uchiha Itachi with Hyuuga Hinata. They are matching him with me."

There was a sharp intake of breath as Sasuke's dark eyes narrowed and at the same time, a strangled sort of sound came from Naruto while his mouth gaped open.

"Tsk, you better close that mouth of yours Naruto, you wouldn't want some fly protein now, would you?" Sakura said mildly, somewhat amused by their reactions.

"My brother is marrying you, and you're okay with this?" Sasuke asked dubiously. The Sakura he knew would never agree to such a preposterous proposal. This was mad – what was even more maddening was that he was hearing this from his teammate instead of his brother.

"I never said I was marrying him," she responded, rather secretively.

"Then you're rejecting this damn proposal then!" Naruto exclaimed, a wide smile on his face. He too had been a guest in Sasuke's household multiple times, and while he had no family to call his own – he'd rather be damned than have a family unit as Sasuke's. He was glad that his pink-haired teammate had managed to escape a hellish fate.

"No, I can't outright reject him. It's not that easy. I have to fight him." Feeling slightly overwhelmed, Sakura buried her face in her hands. "It's an old tradition, Tsunade is digging out the paperwork to make sure it happens. I don't have any other options. I just have to beat him in a one on one match."

"That's great Sakura! You can beat that bastard into the ground!" Naruto shouted.

Concurrently, Sasuke commented, "It is unlikely you will be able to defeat my brother."

"Thanks Naruto and I know Sasuke. I'll be training hard before it happens though. I have too much at stake to lose."

"How long do you have to train?" Naruto asked, placated by the thought of Sakura having a fighting chance.

At this her expression fell slightly. "A week."

 **A/N:** Characters are probably OOC. Also, details will most likely not match up with manga. I stopped reading at around chapter 300.

Also, send me a message if there are any grammar and spelling errors – I've tried to catch all of them, I promise!


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 **Disclaimer:** Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto!

For what seemed like the hundredth time of the day, Sakura tumbled to the ground, severely out of breath and sweating madly.

"Is that how you're planning on fighting Itachi?" Kakashi taunted carelessly, his breathing steady, even though they had been sparring for several hours now.

"I just want to go easy on my old Sensei, that's all." Sakura pushed herself off the floor, feeling an acute pain in her side and a familiar metallic taste on her tongue.

"I see how it is," he smirked at her, his posture straightening into a battle stance. "Again."

And so, Sakura charged at him again, drawing chakra to her fists.

In her early genin years, Sakura was the most neglected out of her team members. Granted she had the least ambition and potential out of Naruto and Sasuke, but it had still hurt at the time – to be forever condemned as the weakest member of Team Seven. Although Sakura had made leaps and bounds in her improvement, she still – if she was honest with herself – was the weakest member of Team Seven. But she was not weak, nor did she blame Kakashi for his negligence.

Even after the years of inattention, Sakura had never called her Sensei out. Kakashi was most likely experiencing his own unique brand of guilt and did not require Sakura's harsh words to compound it. Until a couple of days ago, Sakura had never beseeched her first teacher for extra training. But now, it was necessary – she was going to need all the help she could get.

Punch after punch, Kakashi dodged effortlessly, noting the frustration that was accumulating in Sakura, manifesting in the red of her cheeks.

"Hold still, damn it!" Sakura gritted out, as she attempted to swipe at Kakashi's feet.

"Not fast enough, did Lee start on your speed yet?"

"No, not yet – tomorrow. I think," Sakura panted. Fed up with his evasive manoeuvres, Sakura gathered chakra to her fist and sent it flying to the ground. The dirt beneath her hand parted easily, a large crack forming from the contact, running towards her Sensei.

Kakashi was forced to take to the skies to avoid the flying dust and rocks – but Sakura would be ready for him when he no doubt landed.

The moment his feet touched the floor, Sakura was on him. For a split second she had the advantage and she engaged him in rapid taijutsu, exchanging blow after blow with him. Seeing a window of opportunity, she sent her foot in a roundhouse kick heading straight for his stomach. The blow connected and Kakashi was sent flying.

He sailed through the air and crashed against a tree, except to Sakura's surprise there was a poof of smoke and Kakashi was no more.

"A clone? Are you fucking kidding me?" Sakura was smoldering at this point, angry at herself for her seemingly lack of progress and at Kakashi's deceptive ploy. "Come out here and fight me like a man!"

"Ah, trying to rile me up, aren't you Sakura?" Kakashi appeared behind Sakura, his fist aiming to connect with her neck.

Sakura spun around and easily dodged the hand, opting to rain blows onto her opponent.

"It may work for opponents like Naruto, but it'll probably do you more harm than good with people like Itachi," Kakashi advised wisely, his calm exterior never wavering as he expertly danced around Sakura. "In fact, your emotions will hinder you in a fight with Itachi. It's best to leave them at home."

"I know," Sakura seethed, her attention wavering. In the blink of an eye Kakashi had gained the upper hand, delivering a harsh blow to her shoulder. She was on the ground, again. Ah, the taste of dirt was becoming rather familiar. Perhaps it was an acquired taste.

She groaned and rolled onto her back. Sakura peered up at the sky, feeling the bruises on her back and arms more acutely as the sun continued to beat down on them.

Not skipping a beat, Kakashi towered over her head, giving her a brief respite in the form of shade. "Again."

888

"Come on Sakura! Tap into that youthful energy! You'll have to be faster than that if you want to catch me," bellowed Lee, as he sprinted through the forest, green scenery flashing past him – details indistinguishable.

Choosing to focus on the darting, blurry black object in front of her instead of the insistent ache in her side, Sakura pushed herself. _Faster, I need to be faster_ , she thought grimly. Her chakra enhanced moves would be useless against Uchiha Itachi if she could not land a single blow on him. How embarrassing would that be – Tsunade would surely begin to deny any association with her.

"Focus, Sakura!" chided Lee, still yards ahead of her. His rigid discipline might rival Itachi's, his hard efforts paying off considering he was now considered _the_ taijutsu specialist of Konoha.

"I am focused. Just slow. Down." She had been working on her speed with Lee all morning. When the sun was still rising, they had decided to begin the day with simple sparring – no chakra enhancements allowed. To her horror, Sakura soon found out that landing a hit was impossible, it was even worse than with Kakashi. Yet, after an hour of toiling, one of her kick's managed to graze Lee's arm and the sparring was announced to be over. Even now, Sakura was unsure if the contact was a fluke, perhaps Lee had taken pity on her and had slowed down for a fraction of a second to allow the connection.

They then transitioned to work on movement fluidity. Lee pointed out that jerky, disconnected movements slowed down any fighter significantly. If one could seamlessly meld each action into the next, they'd be shaving off precious milliseconds on their response time. And so, Sakura had spent the next part of the morning on copying Lee's graceful stances as the sun steadily continued to climb into the sky.

Now, perhaps in an effort to blow off some of Sakura's pent up steam, Lee had proposed a simple game of tag. Sakura, never to back down from a challenge, eagerly agreed. It did not take long for regret to creep into her mind – and lactic acid to settle in her muscles.

Sweat dripping down her back, hair plastered to her face, Sakura continued to pump her legs, eyes zeroed on the ever elusive taijutsu specialist. All it took was one stray root, one that protruded from the ground a little too much – but not enough for Sakura to notice – and she went airborne. She landed in a heap and did not get up.

"I never took you for a quitter, Sakura," mused Lee, a too-white smile on his face, as he backtracked to help Sakura off the ground.

"You knew I was never going to be able to catch you anyways. It was a lost cause. Besides," she winced. "I think I sprained my ankle."

888

This was wrong, and Sakura knew it too. To use this in such distasteful context screamed at Sakura's conscience. She was taught better, but this may just be her salvation. Improved speed and taijutsu was not enough. Her ninjutsu was still mediocre at best, thanks to her little chakra reserves. But this would be her secret weapon. It could give her enough of an edge to tip the scales in her favor. And she knew she would need all the favor she could get.

The punching dummy lay suspended from the ceiling. Black leather stretch over its form, around its legs and arms, allowing it to vaguely resemble a human body. Not exactly the most formidable opponent, but for Sakura's purposes this would do. Unlike other punching dummies which were usually filled with sand or grain, this one was stuffed to the rim with rags. They would be required for Sakura to test her new skill.

Sakura faced the leather dummy, breathing softly, unsure whether this was a line she wanted to cross. But understanding the necessity of her actions, she gently sent the dummy into motion by giving it a small kick to its midsection. It went swinging.

She allowed it to swing a couple of times before concentrating on her chakra flow. She began to gather it, except this time instead of directing it to encompass her entire fist, she sent it to her fingertips.

The dummy, swinging like a pendulum, neared her – at its closest point, Sakura drew her finger across its abdomen. It was a brief, feather-light touch. Nothing happened, the dummy continuing its swinging unaffected.

And so the afternoon wore on, Sakura testing out different methods against the dummy. Delicate brushes against its body, then harder pressures. Long strokes against its arms and legs, then little flicks. She began to perfect her method, the chakra control needed pushing the limits of her ability. Yet, she persevered.

While her capabilities in ninjutsu and taijutsu may have inherent restrictions in their improvements, she was determined to push the boundaries of her chakra control more than ever. This, if nothing else, she could do.

After several long hours with the dummy, she allowed it to come to a rest. Inspecting the worn black leather encompassing the rags within, she concluded that the leather was not marred anymore that it was before, in any way shape or form. Satisfied, Sakura lowered the dummy to the floor and reached for a nearby kunai. She gutted the dummy, dragging the kunai from the neck down to its navel and allowed the contents inside to spill out.

Rags did not spill out, as one might suspect. Instead, tiny, shredded ribbons came out – what was left of the rags. Concisely cut ribbons, as if one had spent an exuberant amount of time cutting the rags inside for no good reason. She reached a bit deeper into the dummy and pulled out wholesome rags – ones that were unaffected by her earlier actions.

Sakura smiled. She had a chance after all.

888

Six days and six nights passed quickly, too quickly for Sakura's tastes. She had trained hard for all of them, beginning rigorous exercises with her various chosen tutors in the morning and practicing her own speciality in the late night. She was tired, but she fuelled herself with the belief that this would pay off. It would have to pay off – there was no other option for her.

On her last day of training, Sakura sought out her teammate. This particular teammate in question was a bit moody, a lot broody – but most importantly was in possession of the sharingan.

"Sasuke," Sakura called out to him, across the Konoha market. He was with Naruto, unsurprisingly – as they shared a special bond nobody could ever breach. She had not seen either of them in the last week and gave them a soft smile when she caught up to them.

"Sakura," Sasuke returned, inclining his head slightly. "How is your training going?"

"As well as can be expected I supposed. But I need your help with something."

"Oh?"

"Fight me." Sakura noted to herself how much she sounded like Naruto in that moment. Maybe she would need to channel Naruto as much as possible in her fight with Itachi tomorrow.

"You want to spar with me?" Sasuke repeated.

"No, I said _fight me_. No holding back."

"How come you asked him to fight? What about me, Sakura?" Naruto spoke up, a confused and slightly wounded expression on his visage.

"Last time I checked Naruto, you don't have the sharingan. And last time I checked my _fiancé_ does," Sakura explained – spitting out the word 'fiancé'.

"Very well, let's go to the training grounds then," said Sasuke before he bounded off in the direction of the fields.

Not long after, Sakura found herself squaring off against Sasuke. It was dusk and a light breeze drifted across the grounds, wrapping itself around Sakura almost soothingly. "No holding back Sasuke, I know you do sometimes when we spar."

Sasuke gave a lopsided grin. "Alright Sakura, as you wish."

Without warning, or so much as a twitch, Sasuke charged, his fist already flying towards her face.

Sakura sidestepped the initial attack easily, swinging her leg out in retaliation, which Sasuke blocked.

They continued exchanging punches and kicks, neither one gaining the upper hand, engaged in a graceful but lethal dance. Their speed matching one another, their reflexes refined and their retaliatory responses deadly. While their movements did not reflect a killing intent, it still exuded a violent aura. They were both aiming to severely incapacitate the other.

Sakura was not going to lose to her teammate. She watched his leg tense nanoseconds before it swung towards her back. Catching the ankle easily and with chakra enhanced strength, she shoved him away from her, slamming his ankle onto the ground – his leg following soon after.

Sasuke gave a grunt of pain and if he was anyone else, Sakura imagined that their eyes would be bulging out of their sockets in response to the jarring impact.

Yet, Sasuke used the momentum to his advantage. From his vulnerable position on the ground he twisted his foot away from her then hooked it around her ankle and sent her crashing to the dirt. They commenced a dirty tussle on the ground, grappling each other in a frantic attempt to achieve an opening.

It ended with Sakura heaving on the bottom, with Sasuke hovering over her, his hands locked around her wrists.

"I think it's time for you to give up," he panted, out of breath as much as she was.

"Fuck off." She wrapped her thighs around his midsection and used her leverage to push him away from her. In another moment their positions had switched, a surprised Sasuke was flat on the ground with a triumphant looking Sakura on top. She smiled at him, watching his dark eyes scrutinize her. "If I was a real enemy, all it would take is one of my punches through your rib cage and you'd be dead."

It really was too soon to celebrate.

Red eyes flashing, tomoes swirling and Sakura lost all conception of up, down, left, and right. She saw flashes of another life and she knew she was temporarily under a genjutsu.

A sudden wrenching pain in her arm brought her back to reality. Their places had switched – again. Sakura had her front pressed against the dirt and an identifiable heavy weight was on her back, Sasuke, no doubt. One of her arm was lodged between her chest and the ground, the other twisted behind her back in Sasuke's unforgiving grip.

"Now, if I was a real enemy, you'd be dead," Sasuke announced smugly. "Isn't it a bit foolish of you to look into a Uchiha's eyes?"

"Tell me about it," Sakura muttered, slowly inching her arm out from beneath her chest. Hopefully Sasuke wouldn't notice.

"If I was my brother, this fight would have been over a long time ago."

"Really? You're that confident in your brother?" Just a little more and her arm would be free – more importantly her fingers would be free.

"Yeah, it's only because you haven't seen him fig –" Sasuke screamed at the unexpected pain in his arm, releasing his hold on Sakura's other arm.

Her reaction was swift, the moment her fingers were free from their constraints, she had brushed them over Sasuke's upper biceps, severing the muscles and tendons in the location. She rolled out from underneath him, utilizing her legs to kick him away from her and swiftly stand up.

"What the fuck was that?" Sasuke demanded, hand gripping his useless arm.

"Chakra scalpels. I've never used them in combat before, but desperate times call for desperate measures." What a cliché line – but that was all she said before she charged at him.

With one arm effectively disable, Sasuke was at a lost on how to defend himself from Sakura's renewed assault. He exploited his legs to the fullest, meting sharp kicks to her hands, careful to not brush against their outstretched fingertips. A single lapse in concentration was all that was required for Sakura to deliver a single swipe of fingers across his vulnerable wrist.

Sasuke grunted and fell to his knees.

"Do you surrender?" Sakura asked, hands on her hips in front of him. A small smile playing on her lips. This would no doubt be a severe blow to the young Uchiha's ego.

"Yes."

A little while later, they sat underneath the moonlit sky, talking softly, surrounded by the reassuring chirps of hidden crickets. Sakura had finished healing her wounds already and was now working on Sasuke's countless bruises and cut muscle tissue.

"Nobody knows I can use chakra scalpels. They only know of the strength Tsunade gave me. This will give me an advantage tomorrow, Sasuke. I'm sorry I had to try it out on you first," she said softly, her apology sincere.

"Hn."

"Oh don't start that with me, Sasuke. Do you want me to be your sister in law?"

"I don't find that idea particularly attractive."

"Good, because neither do I. And I've been working hard this entire week to make sure it doesn't happen. Have some faith in me won't you?" She offered him a tentative smile as she finished healing the last of his wounds. Brushing off the dirt on her pants she began to stand.

"Sakura?"

"Hm?"

Sasuke hesitated, unsure of how to break his thoughts to her. It would hurt, and she did not need doubt invading her mind so close to the match. But he did not want her to have blind optimism tomorrow. "Are you confident that you can beat him?"

Sakura looked up at the night sky thoughtfully. "Yes, my answer hasn't changed since seven days ago. I thought I could beat him before and I think I can do it now."

"Why?"

"I've increased my speed, trained my taijutsu. Plus, I got chakra scalpels on my side. He doesn't know that I can – I will use them tomorrow. And even though he has the sharingan, I don't think he will try to use Amaterasu or Tsukuyomi. It wouldn't do to cause your _fiancée_ psychological trauma or third degree burns, would it?" Her voice was confident.

Sasuke tensed imperceptibly, then turned to Sakura, a regretful expression apparent on his face. "Sakura, it won't be enough for Itachi."

 **A/N:** Kinda had fun writing those fight scenes. That was my first go at those fight scenes – what do you think?

Hit me up if there are spelling/grammar mistakes, I try to catch them all!

Itachi will make an appearance next chapter. Not too sure how to go about his character though. We shall see.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

A cool, spring breeze flitted through the opened window, creating the sound of gentle rustling leaves just outside of Sakura's apartment.

Tired, apple green eyes fought to open, but once they did they were greeted with the sight of Kakashi's shocked, white hair.

"Kakashi? What are you doing here?" Sakura asked as she sat up, completely awake.

"Trying to make sure you're not late for your big day today."

"Tch, have you no faith in me? Unlike you, I'm _punctual_." She slid out of bed and made her way to the bathroom. "Be out in a minute."

If Kakashi was younger, he would have probably rolled his eyes, but settled for lazily reclining on the reading chair, legs crossed, waiting for his student. Really, Sakura had come such a long way; from a vain and childish girl to a force to be reckoned with. She had steadily climbed the ranks at Konoha hospital, fine-tuning her medical ninjutsu until it rivalled that of Tsunade and Shizune. She had found her talent in chakra control and manifested it in her punches and kicks.

Still, Kakashi did not believe Sakura could defeat Itachi. It was not due to a lack of faith in Sakura but due to his previous experience with the Uchiha clan heir. He was ruthless, and coldly efficient. The man lacked the emotional impulses that occasionally plagued his student and wielded the sharingan with complete competence. The odds were stacked against her, but Kakashi wished for a pleasant surprise on this fine day.

Sakura, together with her two teammates and former sensei, strolled down the streets of Konoha. It seemed like a regular day, but her stomach was in knots. It was futile to deny she wasn't nervous for her upcoming fight. She had trained for an entire week straight – but was it enough?

There was something that gave her hope, wriggling in the back of her mind. Perhaps Uchiha Itachi would throw the match, she had given him a way out of the marriage, all she needed was his cooperation. But his damn male ego – he would not throw such a public battle easily.

"Sakura."

"Yes, Kakashi?" Sakura lifted her chin to meet the even gaze of the Copy-nin.

"What, no 'sensei'?" he teased, a smile forming under that mask of his.

"Not anymore Kakashi. But maybe again someday." The simple banter lifting her spirits and taking her mind off the incoming afternoon.

He huffed, his expression suddenly turning serious. "When you fight Itachi, you need to lock away all emotions. He _will_ use them against you."

"I know. I've sparred with Sasuke before you know," Sakura replied, her eyes glancing to Sasuke who was walking alongside her.

"Alright, well that's all I have to say." Kakashi gave a subtle nod before continuing to walk in silence.

It suddenly occurred to Sakura that the last time she had laid eyes on the older Uchiha brother was several months ago when she was returning from a mission. Their interaction had been limited and distant to say the least. He had barely acknowledged her and Naruto, only having eyes and ears for his younger brother. Now, she was expected to marry that same man? Impossible.

888

When Sakura arrived, she was immediately isolated from her team, steered by buzzing officials into a secluded and guarded room. To her surprise, she was greeted by the sight of a worried Tsunade.

"Leave us," she commanded, warm honey-brown eyes never leaving Sakura's.

The officials – where did they come from? – obliged quickly, each giving a brief bow before ducking out of the room.

"Yes, Tsunade-sama?"

"Are you ready, Sakura?"

The rosette smirked. "Of course, you've trained me after all. Shouldn't you have more faith in me?" It was a lighthearted attempt at humor, but her ending words fell flat.

"Of course I have faith in you," Tsunade said softly, her eyes darting around Sakura's face, seemingly searching for something unknown. "I'm just worried… I know Itachi will hold back in seriously injuring you but –"

It's been many years since Sakura had interrupted her Shishou, the results last time were explosive, but nerves had worn the girl's self-preservation thin. "Do you think he'll throw the match?"

"What?" Tsunade's word was sharp and her gaze narrowed almost dramatically.

"I know he doesn't want this anymore than I do. This is a way out for him. It's perfect. If he throws it _and_ makes it believable, nobody can question the dissolution of the marriage!"

If hope was a tangible substance, it would have been choking the sole two occupants of that room.

Tsuande, ever practical, pulled the plug. "Uchiha Itachi was given a choice of possible candidates for marriage. Hyuuga Hinata was a favorable candidate due to her position of clan heiress and close bond with Naruto and by extension me. But he didn't chose her, or any of the other ones – he chose you. You were his _first_ choice, and he sure as hell isn't going to throw a match because that would force him to settle for what he considers _second_ best."

888

Sakura was reeling from her teacher's words. She didn't notice when the officials returned to herd her out of the room and into another, or when her Tsunade whispered a quiet, "Good luck." No, Sakura's thoughts were stuck on a certain Uchiha Itachi and his inexplicable decision. On second thought, perhaps it was due to her close friendship with the next Hokage and his younger brother. Yes, that had to be it. Her fateful placement in Team Seven had resulted in her current predicament today.

"Miss Sakura?"

The words from an official jerked her out of her contemplations and she scanned the room's contents like any proficient shinobi.

There was a growing pit in her stomach as her wide eyes zoned in on a table illuminated by a single overhead lightbulb. It was filled with a wide variety of weapons, the sharp metal winking at her in the dim lights. Katanas, scythes, daggers, double edged swords, throwing knives – anything imaginable and it rested on that table.

Understandably, Sakura gravitated towards it, her attention fixated on a particular weapon. It was beautiful, the worked metal giving off an azure gleam. They were twin swords, meant to be utilized with both hands, giving the user a deadly reach, but no defence. She ran her hands over the handle, lovingly, as she was mesmerized by the lethal allure the twin swords held. Her fingers traced over a small ruby stone that was embedded into each of the handles, it bore a strong resemblance to the Uchiha fan.

Understanding the implications, she wrenched her hand away, her attentions drawn into the far corner – to a man who had been watching her. His name? Uchiha Fugaku.

Meeting her suspicious gaze, he stepped from the shadows, the chiaroscuro of his face gave way to illness in Sakura. She felt a deep set fear for him – but why had it arisen now? It was not her first time encountering this man, she had been in Sasuke's house countless times. Yet, such vulnerability had never grasped her before as it did now.

"These weapons. They are taken from the clan's own armory. They are all made from the highest quality metal and material. Any one of these can withstand heavy battle without breaking." He swept his hand over the weapons table. "You may pick _one_."

Anticipation fluttered in Sakura and her inexplicable fear was placated. She would be able to use one of these beautiful weapons and she knew exactly which one she would be using.

Her hand encircled a ruby encrusted handle, one of the twin swords, and she lifted the blade.

Disappointment flooded her, pushing out her earlier excitement. It was too heavy, she wouldn't be able to perform any offensive maneuvers with this and her defense would be unquestionably compromised. Sakura lowered the blade, dissatisfaction apparent on her features.

"Are you not choosing a weapon?" Fugaku asked, an eyebrow arching at her interesting choice.

"No, they are most likely all too heavy for me. And I have not trained with any of them extensively. Besides," she lifted her gaze and stared Fugaku head on, false arrogance projecting from the aloofness of her posture. "My hands are weapons enough." _Or fingers._

The clan head simply smiled, unperturbed by her confidence. Of course, he saw its thin fragility. "Certainly, Miss Sakura, your punches are legendary. Each of you will be given the choice of one weapon. But perhaps it is smarter to rely on what you know."

Sakura gritted her teeth, not breaking eye contact. Was he mocking her? His initial compliment was shallower than a puddle in the desert. And to think, if she lost this fight, this man would become her father-in-law, the vile thought only fed her fire.

Suddenly, a pale hand from behind her reached out to grasp a slender katana. Sakura gasped and spun around – she had not even detected his presence, but now she certainly felt his warmth.

It was Uchiha Itachi, he wasn't looking at her at all, even though he stood inches from the expanse of her back. In fact, his onyx eyes were steadily watching his father. It seemed as if they were locked in a staring contest, the stakes of which were higher than Sakura could fathom – it made her uncomfortable and she edged herself out from between the table and Itachi's front.

With her movement, those same onyx eyes shifted and landed squarely on her. He looked at her, a blank and unassuming expression on his face. His gaze trailed down to her empty hands and confusion briefly flitted across his face. "Do you not think to choose a weapon, Sakura-san?"

"Ah, no. No, those weapons will be more of a hindrance to me than an advantage," she responded rigidly. This was the first time she had spoken more than a greeting to him. And they were discussing the benefits of weaponry in a battle – against each other.

"True, then perhaps it's for the best." He inclined his head, then turned away from her. A clear sign of dismissal.

Eager to leave the oppressive atmosphere, Sakura gave a quick bow in the general direction of the two men. "I'll take my leave then, Uchiha-san… Itachi-san."

Closing the door, her grip resting on the handle, she could hear a voice from within break the silence – she identified the owner as Uchiha Fugaku – "That girl will be a difficult one to break. Too headstrong, like Tsunade. You can't give her an inch or she'll take a yard. We'll have to work on that."

Sakura twisted the handle savagely, gave a light application of chakra and snapped its connection with the door.

888

Too soon, Sakura was ushered away from those familiar and into the arena. It was partially enclosed by a dome, opened to the cloudless sky above, providing natural light and fresh air. The arena was dotted with small shrubs and trees. A manmade pond was located somewhere off centre. Everything was strategically place to mimic realistic fighting conditions, but the pristine condition of the lush grass spoke the truth.

She had been here many years before, as a spectator for the Chunin exams of her year. Fond memories of the battles that took place flickered through her mind – Naruto's triumph over Neji, Shikamaru's characteristic surrender and Sasuke's defeat at the hands of Gaara. Now, she returned, this time a major participant.

In the early morning, Sakura could have said she was completely confident in her ability to emerge victorious. His predictable reluctance to utilize seriously damaging tactics coupled with her unfamiliar and lethal new skill clearly tipped the scales in her favour. But the wary looks and comments from others – _especially_ those close to her had worn her self-assurance thin.

Presently, she stood a few meters opposing him. Taking in his relaxed stance, blank expression and steady gaze, Sakura felt foolish. An ANBU captain at thirteen – she was only a freshly graduated genin herself at that age. The infamy of his abilities were known globally. How could she have let herself believe so blindly?

She had incorrectly assumed the scales were balance to begin with. No, they were already heavily tipped in his favour; she had only managed to balance them – at best.

Another man stepped between Sakura and Itachi, she vaguely recognized him as Asuma Sarutobi. "I will be the conductor for this match," he spoke gruffly, in his distinctive baritone. "If either of you wish to surrender, now would be the time to do so."

Itachi, dressed in a navy mesh shirt and loose shinobi pants, tilted his head at her. It was as if he was silently urging her to take the offer – to submit before even trying.

Sakura smirked, and placed a fist onto her hip – she desperately tried, and hoped that it showed, to exude confidence in her words and actions. "No, Sarutobi-san. I don't think either of us will be taking you up on your offer."

Itachi gave a short nod of his head, as if commending her determined words – who needed his approval? Then, he smiled. It was unexpected to say the least. A soft, gentle tip at the corner of his lips – only meant for her eyes. His expression was almost fond, yet at the same time resigned and only served to confuse Sakura further.

"The match will only have one round – the winner is declared at the end. The match ends when one of you surrenders, is physically unable to continue or when I have judged that a winner is obvious and any further fighting is unnecessary."

Watching Itachi's relaxed grip on his favoured katana, it suddenly dawned on Sakura that she would have to disarm his weapon if she wanted any hope of properly utilizing her chakra scalpels. There was little chance she would be provided an opportunity to swipe at his vulnerable skin with the katana still in play. _Fuck_ , irritation at her own naivety coursed through her. It was just another hoop she would be forced to jump through.

"Begin."

The words of Asuma Sarutobi rang clearly through the arena, startling Sakura from her thoughts. The audience, filled with teammates, close friends, old teachers and the majority of the Uchiha clan, remained silent. Their eyes fixated on the pair below, breaths held as they waiting for the first move.

888

If nothing, Itachi was patient. He stood still, eyes locked on Sakura. Senses attuned to the minuscule vibrations in his surrounding that would alert him of her movements. Ah, there it was – the subtle tensing of Sakura's leg before she sprang at him.

She came at him in a flurry of chakra enhanced punches and fists. Heeding the warnings from his father, he dodged them instead of blocking him. Contact with her body would be lethal – a single blow would most likely cause damage he couldn't afford in this battle. While, she was determined and skilled for a shinobi, he already knew it wasn't enough. Sakura, unfortunately, lacked innate talent for combat – her aptitude lying with medical ninjutsu. Yet, he was hesitant to allow her the chance to deal major damage he knew she was capable of.

So, Itachi danced around her, inked hair whipping around him as he evaded her attacks skillfully. Occasionally he would reach out with his sheathed katana and attempt to swipe her off her feet. No such luck.

Her skin was getting more flushed, her movements more clumsy and imprecise. In short, she was getting mad, frustrated and that was costing her. Itachi sensed his opportunity and unsheathed his katana. It would be beneficial to both of them if he could end the battle swiftly. There was no need to prolong this madness.

At the beginning, Itachi had been on the defensive, now he switched tactics. With his katana gleaming in the afternoon light, he began retaliating against her attacks agilely – slashing at her midsection, arms, and legs. Her retreat began swiftly and she jumped away from his reach.

"Finally," she said. "I've been trying to get you to use that damned katana."

Itachi didn't respond, only steadily advancing against her using his katana. The katana nicked her arm at one point, then kissed her leg in another moment. First blood was his. He grimaced. When he imagined his marriage with Sakura, he certainly did not imagine it to begin like this – like enemies. Still, he moved towards her, effectively cornering her in a section of the arena. Her back was to the manmade pond and any more steps would land her in the muddy water.

He was close now, the battle was not difficult by any means and he was thankful for that. He studied her, a lion watching the gazelle – figuring out how to deliver the killing blow. It was not a matter of if anymore, but a question of _when._

"You could surrender," he remarked, almost hopefully. "It would be easier for you, for both of us."

"You fucking wish."

"Is this necessary?" he took a step closer, katana poised to deliver an incapacitating blow.

He could tell his words nudged a deeply buried memory in Sakura. Yet he felt disappointment swell as she pushed it away and allowed fear to manifest on her face.

Itachi moved languidly to deliver the final assault, confident this would be the end of the battle. His silver katana coming down in a graceful arc, meant to embark a lethal wound across Sakura's chest. But, before the blade made contact, Itachi closed his eyes. His insides lurched at the idea of him forcefully inflicting such a wound upon Sakura. Fucking coward. He waited for the spray of fresh blood across his face. It never came.

888

For the first time in a long time, Itachi had miscalculated. Sakura, on the other hand had calculated correctly and was determined to ensure Itachi paid for his mistake. He did not want to seriously hurt her. How nice of him. A terribly scarred bride is no bride at all for the vain Uchiha clan.

As his eyes closed and his face turned slightly away from her – clearly expecting the splash of her blood – Sakura reacted quickly. Manoeuvring under the shining arc of the blade, she swung her foot coursing with chakra at his hand.

With his eyes closed, the kick easily connected and the katana went sailing through the arena.

One hurdle done, only a couple more to go.

Sweet surprise flashed across his face.

Still, Sakura was taken by aback by his swift reaction. A warm hand encircled her outstretched ankle and within the next second, she was airborne.

A curse was muttered as Sakura righted herself in mid-air, landing lithely on her feet and faced the ANBU captain again.

She had meant to quickly disable him with her chakra scalpels immediately after the deposition of the katana. But now, he had created distance between them and Sakura would have to work twice as hard to close the gap. Itachi would not be taken by surprise twice, no doubt.

"You couldn't have made it easy for me, could you?" she asked morosely, rubbing her ankle and sending soothing chakra through her skin.

"I've heard that the Hokage's apprentice likes a challenge," he answered, without skipping a beat.

Then, without so much of a twitch, he launched himself at her, closing the distance between them swiftly and engaging her in rapid-fire taijutsu. Without Lee's training Sakura's freedom would have been lost at that point. She managed to block his first couple of blows and then began to exchange kicks and punches herself.

Of course, none of them connected.

It was tiring. It was almost as she was trapped in a tango with a forced partner. A step forward, a step back – near misses, feather-light brushes, and the whisper of black hair across her skin. One wrong move and it would be over. Still, she moved seamlessly through the air – employing every inch of her prior training. It was Lee's ingrained exercises that saved her today, her fluid limbs moved out of Itachi's reach every single time.

But it would be her chakra scalpels that won her the battle.

Their movements could have been artistic, beautiful – if not for the flushed red of Sakura's face and the sweat that dripped down her back. She would have been discouraged with herself, had she not noticed Itachi's slightly heavier breathing. Although his physical appearance betrayed nothing of his accelerated heart.

Was it minutes, or hours? How long have they been sparring like this – neither of them gaining the upper edge, but both balanced precariously on the edge of a cliff. It only required one wrong twitch. Or perhaps it was only Sakura on the ledge and Itachi was always at a safe distance – perhaps, she had been overestimating her abilities.

As they jabbed, blocked and dodged, the pair shifted around the arena – away from the pond, towards the center then roundabout to the edge. Sakura could feel the hot sun pounding at her back and that – out of all possibilities – gave her the advantage.

Dodging his fast kick at her legs, Sakura leap straight up into the air, and brought her hands together, preparing to bring them down onto her opponent.

888

A flash of white from the sun.

Itachi hesitated, looking upward. The beaming sun interfering with his sight. He was unable to focus on his target.

As Sakura descended in freefall, his eyes latched onto her intertwined hands – glowing with chakra enhancements. He readied himself.

What he didn't notice was the anticipatory gleam in her wide eyes.

He expected a chakra fuelled punch and was surprised for a second time that day when Sakura landed low to the ground. Her feet spread, a hand on the ground for balance and an arm finishing its arc in front of her body. Finishing?

Then, he felt the sharp pain in his wrist and met her triumphant expression. It was then, Itachi noticed the green glow emanating from the hand that was not on the ground. It did not encase her entire hand as he expected, but from her index and middle finger, which were brought together.

Like his brother, Itachi was bewildered. Unlike his brother, he refrained from allowing it to show on his face. Instead, he gripped his lame arm with the other and watched Sakura's approach impassively.

"Chakra scalpels?" he queried, inwardly impressed with her antics.

"Chakra scalpels," she confirmed, walking closer – like a lioness watching a gazelle this time. Or was it the lioness watching the lion? "I've never tried using them to disable a shinobi's ability to make hand seals. Works well doesn't it?"

It was a rhetorical question, as Sakura catapulted herself towards him, fingers blazing with chakra.

The fight recommenced.

Even with a useless hand, Itachi managed to circumvent her movements easily.

Then he switched tactics, choosing to neglect close-quarter combat where he was disadvantaged and opted to take longer leaps away from her. In effect, he was running. But not without a purpose.

Itachi landed lightly on the ground before taking to the skies again, forcing Sakura to chase him around the arena.

The girl was easily angered, a short temper would be his key.

So, on he went, leaping into the sky, briefly landing on the unblemished, flat ground.

Suddenly, a rumble echoed around the arena, and the birds that roosted in the trees squawked and took to the sky. The ground beneath him was becoming torn up, Sakura's enhanced strength sending rocks and debris everywhere. Still, the majority of the arena remain undamaged and Itachi simply relocated himself to the unaffected parts.

Predictably, in her blind pursuit of him, Sakura followed like a bee to honey. She gathered more chakra to her hands in order to demolish the once pristine, grassy grounds.

Wise teachers had always lectured their students on the importance of manipulating their surroundings to their advantage. Words Sakura was taking to heart as she attempted to cease Itachi's flight and engage in close combat with him. However, she allowed her tumultuous emotions to color her rationale and forgot her first sensei's words – _look underneath the underneath_.

Itachi could sense Sakura's waning chakra as she continued her chase, destroying the arena as she went.

Abruptly, he landed firmly on a piece of upturned rock and turned to face her nearing form, welcoming the imminent taijutsu struggle.

"Surely, you must be out of chakra now," Itachi mused, ducking under her fist which was understandably chakra absent.

She gritted her teeth and swung again. "I still have enough to cut your muscles and tendons."

"You could surrender now, you've fought valiantly." It was a flimsy attempt to appeal to her ego.

" _You_ could surrender now – you have nothing to lose. You could walk away from this, pick another girl. Why continue to fight?" she was urging him to reconsider his decision.

"What of my pride?"

"What of my freedom?" she shot back, angrily.

"I would be forced to marry a woman anyways. My freedom was forfeit the day I was born."

Sakura stilled her continuous assault, and met his gaze warily. It really wasn't a surprise to her that he would have no choice in his marriage. Her heart went out to him in that brief moment. For a fraction of time, they understood each other. Two people who never chose this, but were still forced into it.

His eyes softened as she relaxed her posture, pity in emanating from her in waves.

Now would be a perfect time to subdue her.

Suddenly, she tensed. "I'm sorry. But I'm not going to marry you without fighting till my last breath," she said. "Nothing against you personally."

They engaged in another taijutsu spar. This one notably absent of Sakura's signature chakra fortified strength. To Itachi, it signalled the nearing end of the match and Sakura's consequential defeat.

He lured her over to the pond, his chakra control allowing him to effortlessly walk upon the water.

Sakura followed.

He knew she was a water user – although her abilities in water based ninjustu lagged behind that of her medic ninjutsu. He knew she was also desperate to end the battle. His fire abilities would be overwhelmed by the naturally more dominant water ninjutsu. This would be a perfect opportunity for her to use it.

This was a perfect opportunity for him.

888

It was a gamble, using her last of her chakra to perform a ninjutsu. Sakura would only have enough chakra left to manage one attempt at severing Itachi's muscles. But, high risk, high reward – right?

She would distract him with the water, then disable his other arm. Finally, their match would be over. And this would be just a bad nightmare.

He became rigid as Sakura formed the last of her seals, preparing for the impending onslaught.

The water beneath the both of them was suddenly siphoned away and they were left standing on muddy ground.

A water dragon. It wasn't that magnificent, due to the small water source and Sakura's depleted chakra. But it would do.

Locking eyes with her created beast, she flicked a finger in Itachi's direction. The instructions clear.

The dragon came barreling at him from behind, water flying from every direction. Its jaw opened showing off elongated fangs. The mouth closed around the Itachi, swallowing him whole.

A flicker of red amidst the water glinting in the sunlight.

He didn't even bother to defend himself from the attack. That only set Sakura on edge. She had made a grave mistake. She didn't know or understand what his plan was yet, but she knew she had played directly into his hands.

Sakura sprang into action, feet carrying her across the water to where Itachi was – engulfed by the whirling water, obscured from her view.

Crows. So many crows. The black birds bursting out from the spinning water column – originating from where Itachi should be. They squawked menacingly and veered towards Sakura.

A clone? She swore under her breath. They came at her, contemptuous.

Plucking beaks and clawing feet. The creatures tore at her skin and she threw her hands up, vainly trying to keep them at bay.

One particular vicious creature dove for her eyes, its nails scoring at her eyes.

Sakura screamed, covering her bleeding eyes with her hands. The running blood had long ago ruined her vision.

She had foolishly believed Itachi wouldn't seriously hurt her. She underestimated his ruthless behaviour.

The ends always justified the means. How could she have been so _fucking_ stupid?

Now she was blind – the damage she incurred too great to ever be reversed. Her breath came out in short, panic spurts.

A warm breath on her neck.

"It's over."

The words came from Itachi. His good hand was wrapped around her neck in a stranglehold. Her back flush against his chest.

The last vestiges of her chakra had been used to futilely combat the crows. The crows that probably never existed. Her hands were unmarked by her own blood.

He had been baiting her to spend the remainder of her chakra.

"When? You never had your sharingan on. I would have known!" Sakura grasped onto his forearm, digging her nails into the vulnerable flesh.

"Just before the water swallowed me, you made eye contact," he explained. "You forget that my greatest weapons are not my arms – or even my katana. You forgot my eyes."

His fingers tightened around her throat, causing stars to dance across her vision. Her chest was swelling with the need to breathe.

She dragged her fingernails down his arm savagely, tearing into the flesh. His fresh, red blood ran through her fingers. His grip didn't even waver.

Sakura ran her nails down the same path, gouging her fingers in the cruel gashes. This time she was rewarded with a satisfying hiss of pain.

He began to apply more pressure.

She was feeling lightheaded, and her continuous, ravaging scratches on his forearm were becoming weak.

"You said you were going to fight to your last breath, right? How ironic." He gave mocking laugh.

"Fuck you."

Black spilled across her vision, like thick paint.

888

The moment Sakura went limp, Itachi released his grip on her neck, allowing her to fall back in his arms. He lowered himself, with her, to the ground and with his good hand, brushed her soft hair away from her neck in order to inspect his damage. He frowned, seeing the already purpling and angry bruises.

He hadn't wanted things to start out this way.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, knowing she couldn't hear his words.

Vaguely in the background, Itachi registered the roaring crowd and the booming words of Asuma Sarutobi.

"And the winner of this battle - Uchiha Itachi!"

He was used to winning. Emerging victorious from enemy encounters during missions and from formal battles such as this one.

But winning had never tasted so bittersweet.

 **A/N:**

Honestly had trouble with the honorifics here. Had no idea how to distinguish the father with the son. If anyone knows better, don't hesitate to correct me!

I don't know why I struggled with this chapter. I was really excited to write the battle scene initially, but that excitement fizzled out. Bleh.

Anyways, like usual – feel free to correct my spelling and grammar!


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 **Disclaimer:** Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto!

The distinct, overbearing smell of disinfectant was what roused Sakura from her sleep. Her eyelids fluttered open groggily and she took in her immediate surroundings. Sterile white walls, blinding overhead fluorescent lights that beat down on her body, swathed in bed sheets. The bed was a nice comfort – soothing for her body.

Memories of the battle flooded her mind.

Shame at her foolish arrogance arose and Sakura flushed. Then, she thought of the acute horror she felt when she believed her eyesight to be a lost cause. Her fingers flitted upwards to cautiously pat at her unmarked face. The loss she had felt - she felt deep in her bones. But they were manufactured feelings, skillfully manipulated by Itachi's illusions. Still, she shuddered when the image of a dark crow flickered through her mind.

After she finished the inspection of her eyes, her fingers travelled elsewhere and Sakura sent probing chakra throughout her limbs. She found completely healed muscle tissue and skin - no bruises or cuts marked her body. It was surprising really, knowing that a medic had taken their time and used up precious chakra to heal the harmless wounds. Being the fiancée of the clan heir must have given her special precedence over other patients. Sakura shivered as she wondered what else that position entailed.

"Sakura?"

Her head snapped up and she turned to the doorway, finding the lumbering presence of Kakashi and Sasuke.

Kakashi's eyes crinkled as he settled into a nearby chair, his presence casting a calming veil over the room.

Sasuke, on the other hand, remained stoic as usual and claimed the other chair beside her bed.

They both had matching expressions of concern for their only female teammate.

Since neither of them seem inclined to break the steady silence, Sakura was the first of offer up her words. "Where's Naruto?"

"He's with Tsunade-sama," answered Sasuke, not quite meeting her gaze.

"Doing?" she prompted.

"He's pleading with her to reverse your marriage proposal."

Silence descended upon them again. While Sakura felt grateful for the caring actions of her friend, she also felt a little sullen, knowing that his efforts would be fruitless.

"It's no use, Tsunade-sama clearly stated what would happen if I were to lose against Itachi. No more fighting the marriage proposal. I made a gamble and I lost. It's pointless."

Uncharacteristically, Sasuke fidgeted in his seat. "They'll try to break you, you know. They'll isolate you. They'll take your friends, your family – your teammates away."

It was no far-fetched guess to assume 'they' referred to Uchiha clan elders. "Stop, Sasuke," she spoke in a harsh tone. "What you're saying could be considered treasonous – speaking of your own clan that way."

Sasuke gave a small, hollow laugh. "Don't fight them head-on, that won't get you anywhere. They'll only tighten the reins. You have to be subtle. Don't do anything rash – please." He gave her a pointed look as if to say, _your temper won't get you far this time_.

Sakura smiled fondly at her teammate and pulled him into a hug. While he did not return the embrace, he accepted her warmth, already used to her affectionate mannerisms. "Thank you, I know. Now, won't you go stop Naruto before he does something stupid?"

After Sasuke's departure, Sakura was left alone with Kakashi, who had had his eyes trained on his novel the entire time. Although, she knew he had been listening to every careful word exchanged between her and Sasuke.

"What did I say about keeping your emotions in check?" Kakashi's voice was hard, his eyes steely and posture rigid. _He is angry with her_ , Sakura realized with a start.

"Excuse me?"

The Copy-nin stood suddenly, towering over Sakura's small form on the bed. "You let him bait you into a trap. You played into his hand, perfectly – like a child!"

He leaned over her, the bright fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows over his features. The growling expression on his face might have been funny – if not for the fact that he seemed seconds from strangling sense into his ex-student.

"I don't know." Sakura gave a small huff and turned away from Kakashi's scrutinizing stare. He wasn't wrong with his observations; Itachi had played her so perfectly. It didn't help much that she had underestimated him and overestimated herself.

"I know why," Kakashi said quietly. A menacing tone began to creep into the man's posture and trickled into his next words. "He's an ANBU captain. It's what he's been doing since he was just thirteen. He'll manipulate your emotions – even more when you two are married. Don't let him, Sakura."

Without meeting his eyes, Sakura gave a small nod.

"Or you'll regret it." He settled back into his previously occupied chair, unconcerned that he had nearly scared Sakura out of her wits.

They fell into an easy banter, veering away from the heavier topics of an imminent, unwanted marriage. The two reminisced about older times – when Kakashi was a neglectful sensei and Sakura was a naive student. Things hadn't changed much. The four of them remaining a team over the years, their bonds growing stronger. But Sakura had managed to change the most. Her attitude towards training became serious and her fiery 'love' for Sasuke fizzled out un-spectacularly. The one who had changed the most after Sakura? Sasuke. As a child, Sasuke had been open and amiable to friends and strangers, but as he grew, his personality became closed. Now, his unreserved demeanor was only meant for his teammates and his brother.

For Team Seven, Naruto was like the unyielding mountain, stubborn in all its glory. With his never wavering dream of being Hokage and his determination to protect his loved ones – he really was their rock. The team's infallible constant, the landmark that connected all three teammates together. And for that, the team was grateful. And for that and his captivating charisma, they shared his dream with him.

The nostalgic, yet fond, conversation was interrupted with a crisp knock on the door. Without waiting for an answer, Uchiha Fugaku stepped through the threshold, an overbearing aura surrounding him. Hands clasped behind his back, he stepped to the foot of her bed and gave her a quick scan.

Behind him, a diminutive figure followed. Long black hair styled into a severe bun, eyes following the shadow of her husband, hands folded demurely in front of her - it was Uchiha Mikoto. In all her submissive subservience.

Sakura almost sneered at him. He was here to gloat, no doubt. To begin beating her with rules and regulation before the knot was even tied.

Let him try.

Kakashi stood stiffly, gave a short bow and left - not before casting Sakura a worried glance.

"Fugaku-san, Mikoto-san. What a pleasure it is to have you here." Her words sounded dead to herself. There was no point in pretending around this man.

He didn't dally in pleasantries. He didn't ask her of her health. He didn't pretend either. Instead, he summoned a thickly bound scroll and handed it to her.

"The engagement party will be this weekend and the wedding ceremony has been set for next month. On the night of the full moon. For fortune, of course." Short, clipped words tumbled from his mouth.

"God knows we will need it." Sakura muttered under her breath, knowing full well that Fugaku could hear it.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Fugaku gave a predatory smile and Sakura returned it likewise. Mikoto was an already forgotten presence in the hospital room.

He tossed her the scroll unceremoniously. "The scroll is your marriage contract. It won't come into effect until the wedding ceremony, but it's better to sign it now and be done with it."

888

After reading the entirety of the scroll's content, the room was eerily silent. There was no clock ticking in the background and it seemed that the hallways were devoid of the nurses' usual clatter. Fugaku watched the pen in Sakura's hand expectantly and Mikoto looked through her with glassy, blank eyes - not seeing Sakura, or anything for that matter.

But Sakura could hear the blood rushing through her ears.

"You must be mad to think I would agree to this." Sakura spoke first. Her words were even, her volatile emotions tightly reined.

"There is nothing mad about it. You have already agreed to it when you lost the match."

"This goes against _everything_ I am as a person. Is the Uchiha clan poor enough that they are unable to procure a doll?"

"A doll?" At least he looked confused at her question.

"A doll. A puppet. Isn't that what you want? Someone to control – manipulate? Although I have no experience in puppeteering myself, I believe it is much easier with a marionette." Sakura desperately wanted to tear at the scroll on the wooden bed table and toss the scraps at Fugaku. But she then deemed it a bit too petty for her tastes.

"You will sign it." There was a hard edge to his mouth. His hand twitched by his side.

"I'm willing to negotiate terms." Sakura leaned back onto her fluffed pillows. She lounged on the bed, holding the pen daintily, exuding the air of a haughty lord.

Fugaku didn't acknowledge her response so Sakura continued, "It says here that all final decisions will be given to Ita - my husband."

"And what of it?"

"I'm signing away my freedom to my husband. It's archaic! It's barbaric!" She nearly screamed in her frustration.

"It is _not_ barbaric. It is tradition. The Uchiha clan has operated with a patriarchy at its head since its founding. And it has served us well," he said scathingly. "You will show deference to your husband."

Sakura's eyes briefly slid to the meek form of Uchiha Mikoto. In a moment of clarity, she knew exactly which words to say to cut him to the bone. Whether he would flinch from the wound is another matter entirely. But she knew Mikoto would be collateral damage if she spoke and while she had no warm affection for the woman, she felt pity. So, she took that humanizing emotion, revelled in it and held her biting tongue. In replacement, she said, "If you think your son can control me, then by all means."

With a purse of her lips, she pressed the inked tip to the scroll and signed her name for that section. Then, she dragged her finger down to the next section and read out the next words. " _Upon the completion of the marriage ceremony, Haruno Sakura will retire as a shinobi until it is deem suitable for her to return to active duty."_

No response.

"Surely you must know I am on your youngest son's team."

"Yes."

"Then you know by doing this you are depriving him of a highly qualified medic. I can't just retire." _Not just for Sasuke, but for myself too_ , she thought.

"Unlikely. You are replaceable. Is Tsunade-sama such an inept teacher that she only has one qualified medic under her tutelage?" Sakura's earlier words are echoed back at her.

"That's not true and you know it." She barely managed to stop the snarl from forming. "Tsunade-sama is a capable teacher. But they trust me to get the job done."

"Nonsense. Perhaps it's time for a change. Team Seven is the only team that has yet to disband even though the members are of such varying ability..."

Ignoring his not too subtle barbs, Sakura offered up a proposal. "Let me have some time – a couple of years, before I retire. I can train someone to take my place, someone who I have complete faith in their abilities. Then, I'll retire as a shinobi without difficulty."

Sakura was going to retire when Hell froze over, but she wasn't going to tell Uchiha Fugaku that. The bargain was meant to give her time to think of a better situation.

As an afterthought, she added, "Please."

"Three years," was all he said and all too soon Sakura was signing her name again with a fluid motion against the wrinkled parchment.

Three years was enough time for anything to happen.

888

She sensed a familiar chakra presence outside her door. He was hesitant, tensing every few seconds while he probably contemplated his last chance to flee. The ever stoic Uchiha heir wavering in her presence?

How satisfying.

Growing tired of the waiting game, Sakura called out to him; her voice saturated with artificial honey. "You can come in Itachi-san, I know you're out there."

The room descended into a cold stillness as he entered the room, a bit too tense for Sakura to miss his stilted posture.

"Sakura-san, I hope you've been healing well," he said in place of a regular greeting.

Baring the pearly whites of her teeth, she smiled. "As well as can be expected. Am I to be thanking the influence of the Uchiha clan for expediting my healing?"

Itachi nodded and approached her bed wearily. His long hair was neatly tied back, the color matching the dark onyx of his eyes. The navy mesh shirt traced the flattering contours of his chest, leaving little to the imagination. In stillness, he could have passed for an ordinarily civilian; in movement, the lethal grace he possessed was exposed. Not just a human – a fighter, hunter, killer.

Sakura was no different. But the splattering blood of a fallen enemy left a sour taste in her mouth, so she healed. And healed. And healed. If only to offset the lives she took.

"It must be nice to have such privileges." She was referring to the hospital prioritizing her non-life threatening injuries.

"My privileges will become your privileges. But they don't come without a price."

"What do you _want_ in a wife, Itachi-san?" She asked rather abruptly. It had to do with her deep set curiosity about his choice in a wife. Why choose her? He had to choose someone, did she just get unlucky?

He glided to her bedside, taking up residence in the chair Kakashi had previously occupied. "I'm not a difficult man to please, Sakura-san. I only ask for respect, loyalty and some faith."

He forced a somewhat awkward smile and continued, "I only ask for your cooperation."

"This marriage is a farce. A thinly, veiled attempt from your clan to get into Tsunade-sama's good books. You should tell your father it's not working."

Judging from the drooping corners of his lips, Itachi was disconcerted by her answer. "It may be a political marriage – which isn't uncommon at all – but I hope you will possess better sense when speaking about this marriage in public."

"You want me to pretend?"

"I want you to not act like a petulant child."

"Oh? That's a rude thing to say to a woman who is going to bear your future children!" She spat ruthlessly at him.

Unshaken.

Sakura then realized she lived for the brief moments in which his cool demeanor cracked. How fucking petty was that?

"They gave me three years. Three years before I retire and settle down to be a loving housewife." Her fingers gripped the sterile hospital sheets until her knuckles turned a bone white.

His eyes widened perceptively and he took a sharp intake of breath.

He hadn't known _that_.

A triumphant, sneering smile graced Sakura's face but a small part of her cringed at how low she had fallen.

"I did not know, Sakura-san."

"Oh? Did you know I am estranged from my parents? They gave me an ultimatum after I graduated from the academy. They thought that my dream of being a shinobi was a fleeting one. I chose to become a shinobi instead of leading a civilian life."

He arched an eyebrow, silently imploring her to continue.

But she had nothing more she wanted to share with him.

"I suppose they'll be so happy that I'll be settling down. Maybe they'll invite me over for dinner when I retire." A bitter taste was left on her tongue.

At this point, Itachi had barely spoken more than ten sentences. His gaze was not on her, instead, they leisurely roved over the contents of the room.

"Why marry me? Why not choose someone else, someone who is not so opposed to this marriage?" she asked, a tinge of desperation dusting her questions.

"There are many woman in Konoha who would have fought for this opportunity to be married to the clan heir. Yet, you have literally fought against it. You act as if I have given you poison instead of a gift on a silver platter. Ungrateful."

His condescending tone grated on her ears. He levelled his wandering eyes on her now. They were flat, depthless – and chillingly cold. They possessed no warmth or animation within them. His laid-back posture was just one symptom of his haughty air. Another was his tilted head, resting lightly on his fist. A subtle sneer on his pale lips.

"Your influence and position are the only thing you have going for you," she shot back. "No doubt, you'd scare all the woman away with the way you act - cold, dismissive, _superior_. Couldn't get a lady, could you? Had to get trap one into a marriage with you."

They both wore matching smirks; one of them slipping fast.

Itachi scowled. "Do you think your brash personality will attract men any better? Such a shame you have _no_ redeeming qualities about you."

His eyes narrowed disdainfully onto her pink hair. As if to say, she was _also_ lacking in physical attributes.

The two descended into the first of many bitter, petty arguments. Not exactly angry at the other, but resentful of their own forced predicaments. Neither had a choice in their situations, but they sought comfort in spewing malicious words at their partner.

Perhaps misery really does love company.

They argued about everything, but about nothing that was of true value. Sakura yelling hotly about the oppressive nature of his clan and the off-putting disposition Itachi insisted in wearing like a cloak. Itachi would retort coldly, pointing out her brazen attitude and her lacking skills in anything remotely lady-like.

"An uncultured brat," he callously called her.

"A vain psychopath," she shouted irately at him.

"Probably seconds away from murdering his entire clan," she added as an afterthought under her breath.

She didn't think he would hear her – or react at all to her words.

Itachi didn't react, he exploded. In a blur of motion, he was sitting on top of her. Legs straddling her waist.

It could have been sexy – even an intimate moment. Too bad the hand wrapped around Sakura's throat threateningly, pressing her further into the mattress, spoke of a different story.

"Going to choke me again?" she joked, her heart pounding furiously.

He could kill her if he wanted to. It wouldn't take much effort, just a squeeze and a twist and her neck would snap.

"You should watch what you say, little girl."

"Get the fuck off me."

Surprisingly, the clan heir obliged. Easing off her, he opted for standing over her bed, his posture rigid and fingers flexing. As if they longed to re-wrap themselves around a certain slender column.

Sakura considered pulling the sheets up to her neck and feigning exhaustion – a perfect excuse to get him to leave. But, a strange detail caught her inquisitive mind.

She traced, with her eyes, the gnarled, raised skin winding down his arm. A welcome gift from Sakura's desperation to him. Still, she took note of the pink scar, wondering if a new medic-nin treated him. The scarred tissue, a telling sign of an amateur.

"They didn't do a very good job of healing you. Must be a newbie." She voiced her observation to him, pointing at his arm.

"Shizune-san healed me."

"Oh, I'm mistaken; then they did a very good job." Sakura gave him a mocking, knowing smile.

It was a smile Itachi did not return, instead, he quirked an eyebrow.

And Sakura's upturned lips faltered under his disapproving gaze. How could he make her feel like such a child? She reached for his arm, and allowed her nurturing, medic tendencies to overtake. Her fingers lightly brushed over the scars and she marvelled at his otherwise unblemished skin. When she drew healing chakra to her fingertips, Itachi stopped her.

"I am not a vain man, Sakura-san."

"I know, but I am not a spiteful woman." Sakura inclined her head, attempting to escape his scrutinizing gaze. She healed his scars. They are patient and doctor. A simple, clear, and well-defined relationship. But one that lasted until the moment Sakura ceased contact.

She isn't a spiteful women.

Not yet, anyway.

888

The engagement party came much too soon for Sakura's tastes. The rest of the week had passed by in a flurry of activity leaving her breathless by the time the weekend arrived. During the week she had wanted a breather, but now, she would have gladly taken double shifts at the hospital – if only to delay the inevitable.

Sakura nervously stood in front of her mirror, turning this way then that, inspecting the seamless cut of her dress. It was a creamy white, sporting a dipping back and a choked neck, ending just above her knees. It was one of the more feminine things Sakura had ever worn, hand-picked by the Uchiha matriarch herself.

Itachi had been notably absent after their meeting in the hospital. Abruptly leaving after Sakura smoothed out the scars on his skin, she had the distinct feeling he was avoiding her.

"Sakura-san."

He had silently climbed through her open living room window. Dressed in a dark, nicely tailored suit with a matching navy tie, Itachi looked refined. Sophisticated. If only he didn't have a crumpled leaf stuck to his shoulder.

"Itachi-san," she acknowledged, turning to face him fully. "There's a leaf on your shoulder."

He brushed it off and forced a smile upon his lips. The expression in his eyes failed to change.

"You should stop doing that," Sakura huffed, waving a hand at the frozen grin on his face. "You're not fooling anyone."

Like slick oil, it slid off his face. "You'd be surprised," he said. Then he offered her the crook of his right arm, as if this was something they've done many times. "Let's go."

They arrived at the gathering, radiant in their beauty together. Sakura, with her delicate hand resting at the corner of his elbow, smiled demurely at those who greeted her. She aimed to emulate Uchiha Mikoto, who was also greeting guests with her husband at the far end of the hall.

The blurring faces of men and woman, with dark hair and darker eyes, offered her empty congratulations and sparkling promises. Stark, pale hands snaked out from the masses to grasp Itachi's free hand. With the growing crowd, they were swallowed within its churning humanoid contents and shoved this way and that. Itachi ensured Sakura's physical contact with his arm never ceased, all the while gracing the guests with well phrased flattery.

From an uninformed spectator, the two of them could have passed for a happy couple.

But the spectator would have missed the way Itachi forcibly commandeered their movements, sternly pulling her to him when she attempted to extricate herself, as she spotted Naruto's signature orange jumpsuit. Or the way Sakura's nails dug into his arm savagely as he denied her escape time and time again. Or the not so innocent comments from their honoured guests about Sakura's civilian background, her absentee parents, or her flaming, loud pink hair in a sea of black.

 _You don't belong_ , the congruous crowd seemed to say. Never directly with their words; only with their sneers, looks and gestures was the message sent perfectly loud and clear. _We'll eat you. We'll devour you._

Dinner was a troubling affair.

Sakura was seated with Itachi at the center table with the rest of his family. To Sakura's left were two disturbingly empty chairs. She _knew_ they were left there on purpose. The grand, upholstered chairs existed as a symbol of the Uchiha clan's compassionate nature. How they were graciously taking in a parentless child with no shinobi background to wed their eligible son.

To Sakura, the chairs were meant as decoration to a pure political alliance.

Thinly veiled lies.

In between sprawling meals of steaming rice, fresh fish and vibrant greens, Itachi had the tendency to drape his arm over the back of her chair. The heat of his arm making Sakura's neck perpetually flushed. His easy, lounging posture indicated his nonchalance at the entire affair. As if it was entirely normal. As if he had accepted this a long time ago. Although Sakura supposed he did, being born the clan heir. He had had over two decades to cultivate the trademark Uchiha arrogance.

Sakura was not one to be beat at whatever pretend game they were playing.

Beginning the dinner stock-stiff, she began to relax her head on his arm. By dessert, her hand rested on his upper thigh whenever she wasn't taking bites of her chocolate pastry. They even exchanged meaningless words with each other. Their tone was even better than civil, it could have been considered sweet. Phrases, punctuated with undeserved endearments, flowed from both of their lips.

Together, they effortlessly melted into the roles they were required to play.

"The dessert, don't you think it's a little too sweet, love?" Sakura asked, even being bold enough to feed Itachi a bit of cake from her fork.

He opened his mouth and accepted the morsel without resistant. Then, he leaned down to her ear, with chocolate coating his breath. "Not as sweet as you are my dear."

Sakura gave a laugh that sounded too shrill in her head. She didn't fail to notice Sasuke's wary – or perhaps warning? – gaze from across the table. She trailed her fingers to his upper thigh and gave them a light squeeze. "You jest too much, Itachi-san."

There was no response from the man beside her, so Sakura returned her attentions to the dwindling dessert in front of her. When she turned her head to feed Itachi another bite, she gave a quiet startled gasp when a pair of soft lips descended upon hers. The kiss was chaste, brief, lacking any affection behind the action. But it had the intended consequences.

Her fork jolted slightly, sending the dark brown pastry down to her creamy white dress. The bite hit her at her navel, but gravity pulled the pastry southwards and it left a trail of brown all the way to her lap.

"Ah, that was a bit clumsy of you, Sakura-san." He looked smug, satisfied with himself. But this time, his eyes gleamed mischievously when they had been dull the majority of the night.

She looked, and she understood.

Sighing, Sakura stood up, placing her fork back on the table. "I'm a bit too tired today. It's been a busy week."

She gave bows to Fugaku and Mikoto, then glanced at her fiancé expectantly. "You will accompany me home, won't you, love?"

Itachi offered his arm again for the night and they left their engagement party in the same manner that they came. A brightly, but briefly, burning star.

Once the pair reached the walls of the Uchiha compound, where the engagement party was held, they unlaced their linked hands and stepped away from each other.

The show was over and the performers were exhausted.

"I trust you will find your way back, Sakura-san?" he asked, not really looking at her.

"Yes, and I thank your family for the dinner. It was very good," Sakura said, giving a stiff half-bow.

Their words were stilted, the pauses were awkward. What had happened to the easy grace they had both possessed in front of the scrutinizing eyes? They let the silence hang for a while, both of them gazing at their surroundings rather than risking eye contact.

"Ah, this was so much easier when people were watching," she commented offhandedly, giving her dress a tug on the hem.

Her fiancé did not give a verbal response to that; he simply bid her a short good night and disappeared by the second breath.

888

A balmy breeze fluttered through her bedroom, coming from the open window, gauzy curtains accenting the white window panes. The night sky was lit up by the half moon and winking stars and provided the backdrop to the tranquil scene that greeted Sakura.

However, it was punctuated by a familiarly dressed figure.

He had on the usual forearm coverings which left his ANBU tattoo bare and his favoured katana was strapped to his back. Pushed to the side of his face was a white mask which resembled a feline creature complete with pointed ears, slanted eyes and decorated with red slashes on each cheek. Not that he needed the mask to hide his face – he did need it to hide his identity, though.

"Kakashi."

No response from him. He had been blaringly absent from her engagement party.

"Here for late night congratulations, I hope?" Sakura wanted any reaction from him.

"Tsunade-sama requests your presence right now."

"It can't wait till morning?"

"It's a mission."

"A-rank?"

"S-ranked. Highly classified."

"Tell her I'm already there." A smiling Sakura was already performing the seals required to transport her to outside of the Hokage tower.

That is, until, Kakashi stilled her gesturing hands.

"Be careful," was all he said before letting her finish the last seal.

She was already at the base of the tower before she could process his words.

Being careful in a shinobi profession was a given, but for her sensei to specifically give her that warning? Oh, it only made her blood bubble in anticipation.

"Tsunade-sama? You wanted to see me?" Sakura asked, not bothering to knock on the office door. Instead she settled down the cushioned chair positioned in front of the wooden desk – currently occupied by a disgruntled, sober Hokage. "Naruto and Sasuke aren't here?"

"No, and they won't be coming. This is a solo mission," Tsunade said. "But first I'd like to congratulate you for your performance against Itachi."

Sakura scoffed. "You're kidding? Kakashi told me he played me like a fiddle. I was so blind."

"But you stood your ground very well against him. You also demonstrated a new technique." It didn't take a genius to know Tsunade was referencing her chakra scalpels.

Tsunade was many things. Sometimes an alcoholic, most of the time the Hokage, all of the time her surrogate mother. A gambler, a teacher, a leader. But, she was also a healer.

Sakura knew how most medics would view the usage of the chakra scalpel as an offensive weapon rather than a necessary medical tool. She, herself, had felt that very same revulsion as she sliced the insides of a practice dummy into ribbons. But how would Tsunade react to that? Would she react from a healing perspective? With horror, anger and disappointment? Or as the shinobi she was? With excitement for the countless possibilities the chakra scalpels held?

"Yes, I taught myself how to use them offensively." It was a hesitant acknowledge, setting Sakura's nerves on edge.

"How well can you use them? I know you used them against Itachi. But I want to know if that was a fluke."

"It's not, Tsunade-sama. I also successfully used them against Sasuke the night before."

The Hokage gave a tight-lipped smile. She was satisfied with Sakura's answer but disappointed at the same time – personal and professional matters warring with each other. Still, she slid across the flat desk surface a non-descript manila folder. It had the word 'CLASSIFIED' stamped on the corner and below the stamp were seals that were inscribed into the paper preventing just anyone from snooping.

"Open it," Tsunade urged. "It will only respond to your chakra, mine and a select few in ANBU."

"Like Kakashi," Sakura mused to herself as she flipped through the contents of the file. She grinned, excitement flooding her system. A bit of trepidation accompanied that, but the momentary freedom this mission provided her overshadowed any fear. She thumbed back to the front page which contained a thumbnail of her target.

The man had a gaunt face accentuated by his sloping nose and protruding cheekbones. His eyes were heavy lidded and deeply set into his face, giving him a mysterious aura – women swooned over this man. They felt giddy over his luscious lips and piercing blue eyes. He exuded power, wealth and influence that the ladies flocked to like bees to honey.

It must have worked in his favor. For a man who specialized in human trafficking.

"He messed with the wrong girl, didn't he?" Sakura tapped a fingernail over his picture, uncharmed by his physical attractiveness – especially since she knew all of his dirty secrets.

"The daughter of a powerful politician, rich enough to employ us. He probably thought she was just another hidden diamond in the slums." Tsunade continued to explain, "He didn't think putting her in his brothels would culminate in his assassination."

Sakura laughed at that, tracing her finger over his picture and scoring a light 'X' over his face. "He'll never see it coming too."

As they journeyed deep into the night, they discuss the specifics of the mission. The kind of man the target was, infiltration, method of assassination, the retrieval of the kidnapped daughter and other aspects. Sakura was undoubtedly buzzing with energy, eagerly awaiting the arrival of dawn so she could set off from Konoha.

"How long do I have for this mission, Tsunade-sama?"

"I imagine it won't take you more than two weeks."

"But how long will I have until you send out a search party for me?" Sakura was now asking an entirely different question.

"I'll give you three weeks before I send out a search party."

"Thank you." The smile Sakura gave was genuine.

But then Tsuande hesitated, uncertain of how to approach the new subject. "I heard about your deal with Uchiha Fugaku."

"Which part of the deal?"

"The three years part."

Sakura said nothing and opted for looking down and fiddling with her fingers. She had wanted to tell Tsunade that – on her own time and terms.

"Sakura, if you want, I could give you a long-term mission."

"How long, Tsunade-sama?"

"For three years. You'd have three years of freedom to do whatever you want without the Uchihas breathing down your back. I could use someone to do reconnaissance in farther areas."

Wonder alighted in Sakura's features. Amazement that Tsuande would offer such an opportunity for Sakura overwhelmed her.

"Really?" she gasped, ready to accept the open, perfect offer.

But then images of Team Seven flashed through her mind. Naruto, Sasuke, Kakashi. Their expectant, worried faces. Then other people came to the forefront of her mind - Ino, Shikamaru, Hinata.

Itachi.

Sakura scowled, her brows furrowing. "I don't think Itachi or the Uchiha clan would let me disappear for three years. They can't control me when I'm doing reconnaissance in some far off country."

"They can and they will. You forget that I'm Hokage, Sakura. While I cannot dissolve the marriage contract, I _can_ do this."

Tsunade walked around her desk to place both her hands on her student's shoulders, forcing Sakura meet her shishou's gaze. She continued, "Think about it on this mission. I don't need an answer until you get back. I'm sure once you have a taste of freedom you won't want to go back."

Her teacher winked, eyes twinkling of old memories.

"I would know."

The last words Tsunade said before dismissing her student.

 **A/N:** AAH! Still working out the kinks in Itachi's character. Right now, he's a lot of hot and cold.

Oh by the way, I never finished reading the Naruto manga, so some characters and some events may not be what they should be.

And as always, don't hesitate to correct any spelling/grammar mistakes!


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 **Disclaimer:** Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto!

Just as the morning sun crested over the horizon, Sakura was taking her first steps outside of Konoha. She would be gone for three weeks, hopefully completing the mission in two and spending the last week travelling to various lands to gather herbs for the hospital. The best part? Nobody knew where she would be.

Except for Tsunade, Kakashi and the elite few that had access to that portfolio. But, most importantly, it meant no Uchiha Itachi and his blasted clan.

Sakura raised her arm over her head, stretching languidly, reaching for the sky before she bolted into the thick forest in a dead run. She was packed lightly, only bringing a couple change of clothes and some food for travel. No weapons – her hands were the only things she needed.

This was her first solo assassination mission, and she had the distinct feeling that if this was a success she would be sent on many more.

Still, it felt weird. To use her finely honed medic skills to murder. But, they really were the perfect assassination weapons.

She was headed to Kabukicho, the sin capital in all of the known lands. The bustling city had no know loyalties to any daimyo, not that it really required the protection of any hidden shinobi village. Nobody had tried to conquer Kabukicho – ever.

It had no bountiful, fertile lands to boast of. It had no natural resources such as fish, precious metals or lumber to entice others. In fact, it imported almost everything it needed. But, Kabukicho was overflowing with people – all of them, potential workers.

Kabukicho was a secluded, small place, situated on an island not too far away from the mainland about twice the land size of Konoha. It was not really a city or a country. Still, Kabukicho sometimes went by another name, when someone was trying to portray it as mysterious or alluring. They called it, 'Land of Sin'.

An apt name, as Kabu thrived on its red light district. See, it had no nature given beauty to brag about – it was a place mainly created and run on by the simple ingenuity of humanity. Its economy consisted of adult entertainment, gambling, 24/7 clubs – entirely operated by people.

A place made by people, solely for people. More specifically, the most depraved, lustful and dark aspects of humanity.

Naturally, Kabu was a very attractive place for the more illegal establishments. There was no pointing fingers, but it was often touted that the black market was based in Kabu. Kabu was the open manifestation of the underground world, the world that laid hidden in the lands ruled by the daimyo.

It was dangerous. But not enough to detract the hordes of visitors that flocked to the island every year – if only to briefly taste total and utter corruption for a moment.

Sakura had never been to Kabu. But she figured it would be a breath of fresh air compared to the politics back at home. Those were much more tiring. Everyone playing several different roles at one time, everyone pushing different agendas. Sure, they often exuded a cohesive aura to the outsiders. But the inner workings were a mess – strife with betrayal and subterfuge.

Kabu was human immorality on display. There was no need to hide behind gauzy pretenses.

It would take a day of hard travelling for Sakura to reach the south port of Fire Country where she could take a boat to reach the island of Kabu. But before boarding the boat, Sakura would have to transform herself to fulfill another role.

The role of a pretty, young girl looking for an exciting life. Searching for a different way to make a living. Wishing to become a renowned, glamorous icon. She would be donning the guise of innocence, naivety and most importantly, femininity.

By the next morning, Sakura was already up with the chirping birds, preparing herself to board the boat that would be leaving Fire Country at noon and sailing for Kabu.

She shook out her just washed hair and easily plaited it into a single long braid falling to her hip. For flair, she tied the end with a bright red ribbon, reminiscent of the one Ino had given her many years before. Then, she slipped into a slightly sheer, summer white dress which fell to just above her knees. Her disguise was completed with matching heeled sandals – impractical for running, jumping and kicking. But they made her legs look fantastic.

Perfect. Sakura looked every part the pure girl she should have been. A mixture of shyness and boldness, uncertainty and confidence. A girl on the cusp of womanhood, oblivious to her own allure to men. Dripping with virtue, she was a child eagerly willing to dip her untainted hands into a vat of poison. A lost rabbit wandering willingly into the lion's den.

It was all too easy for Sakura. Her pale pink hair and wide green eyes only accenting the intended picture.

If there was one thing each human wanted. It was to play god. And they tried to play god all the time. Shaping and changing the landscape to suit their own needs, slaughtering animals for their own nourishment. It was deeply seated in human nature. But, manipulating inanimate objects or simple beasts was one thing. Manipulating another breathing, thinking human? That was different. And the idea was intoxicating. To mold a guileless child into your own version of a human? That was a dream come true.

Sakura embodied that fantasy. Although, she was tailored to target a specific audience. Namely, Shinoda Kenichi. A man who has made no mistakes in his countless years operating his underground human market. But, a single girl has signed his death warrant.

As Sakura boarded the nondescript boat, she blended in with many of the eager visitors and the other zealous girls wishing to make their own name in a foreign world. But, she was still unique in her own right, walking with an unpretentious confidence and the easy grace of a shinobi.

White, chiffon material billowed around her knees and the sun slanted against her pale hair giving her head an unearthly glow. As subtle as they may have been to the average person, Sakura still felt the probing eyes on her skin. They never lingered too long, just a smidge of a second before they flickered onto the next person. _They_ were very good at disguises, hiding behind large sun hats which blocked out the glaring sun, wearing loose common clothing, having unremarkable faces. They could have been anyone.

Yet, there they were. Sakura met the eyes of a particular woman. A bland face with no inspiring features. A dull mop of straw on top of her head, partly covered by a cute baby blue sun hat. Normal. The woman gave a brief polite smile, before her eyes wandered away.

Sakura noticed the interesting calluses on the woman's hands. Perhaps she worked on a farm before.

Or perhaps she had copious experience with wielding a katana.

They were scouts for various underground organizations. Sometimes they were looking for a particular someone. A member. Or a target. Sometimes they were looking for potential members. Or were they potential victims? Sakura felt herself placed in the latter category. She hoped the right people pegged her as a target – that would speed up her work so much more.

Just as the sun was beginning its descent from the sky, the boat docked at Kabu's main port and its passengers flooded onto dry land like ants. They dispersed quickly; some of them heading into the adult entertainment district. Most heading towards the shopping center and a few melting into the shadows of the more questionable neighbourhoods.

Remembering her own role to play, Sakura headed towards Kabu's massive shopping district. One that attracted lords and ladies from all over the mainland. It boasted of a vast variety of fashions, many styles not seen or sold outside of Kabu. It was also arguably the least dangerous area of Kabu. Sure, they may have employed child labour to create these gorgeous and inexpensive garments, but on the whole, this district merely dabbled with the illegal side of things.

So Sakura browsed the many stores, flitting and wandering through the cotton, leather, silks and lace. She was waiting. Waiting for when Kabu really came alive.

The real Kabu came alive when the sun cast the sky in a dying blood red, mingled with deep purples and oranges. The artificial lights of the buildings began to flicker on. At first, it was just one neon sign, then another, then all of them just as the sun dipped below the horizon. The world was plunged into darkness, but the winking, screaming lights of Kabu brought them salvation.

It was really beautiful, Sakura marvelled as she left the shopping district and veered towards the populous night clubs. An entire street dedicated to them, clubs lining each side of the road with their lights and thumping music that was felt deep in the bones.

Sakura couldn't help but sway to the music as she walked down that road, carefree.

As was mentioned before, Kabu was flush with people. But it was also in high demand for people and all of their _various_ talents. There was no need to seek an employer, for they would seek you.

The single girl, dressed in a sheer gown, was approached again and again with various employers. They urged her to consider their very promising job offer. A job that guaranteed wealth and fame, all for the small price of seduction.

But Sakura turned them all down, they weren't the ones she was looking for. Their clothing a little too ragged, voices a bit too desperate, lacking a sophisticated manner of speech. That combined with the light dusting of alcohol and other drugs on their breath told Sakura all she needed to know. They did not work for the highly cultured man, Shinoda Kenichi, whose perfect appearance was the bane of his existence.

Her spirits were dipping as the waxing moon rose even higher in the night sky. Her target had yet to reveal itself and she was becoming impatient. How could she complete this mission if she couldn't even find the damned man? She knew he was a heavily guarded person – too important to simply walk around unprotected in a place like Kabu, so she couldn't simply barge into clubs asking questions people didn't have answers to. That was too suspicious.

Her current plan was more normal, more likely to succeed. If just a tad bit ironic.

Then, Sakura noticed the heads turning. Not towards her, away from her. As the feeble minds were irrevocably captivated by the sight it beheld.

Sakura wasn't supposed to have recognized her. But she did, nonetheless.

The woman was a picture of stunning beauty. The kind made from the tears, blood and flesh of deities. She commanded a sultry, blanketing air of authority. Loose, strawberry blond curls bounced around her bare, olive toned shoulders. A silky dress of crystal red draped around her body, falling in artful waves. Matching, piercing, dark blue eyes scanned her gawking audience from under the veil of long, curved lashes. A face adorned by high, blushing cheekbones and accentuated by a pair of plump lips painted in crimson.

She was the same lady on the boat.

Oh, she was very good. Her physical appearance coupled with the way she carried herself told Sakura the truth. This woman worked for Shinoda Kenichi. Although, Sakura guessed, her official title may have been a performer and not a human trafficker expertise.

They came to meet each other in the middle of the street. The woman gracefully coming to a stop, while Sakura tripped over a loose pebble on the cobblestone road.

The woman smiled, softness smoothing her features. "I've noticed you, child. You've turned down all your job offers, yet I know your kind. You want a different life for yourself, one that isn't doused by misery, but by life and excitement. Isn't that right, child?"

"I'm not a child," Sakura managed to splutter, her words clumsy when compared to the woman. "My name is Mineko."

"Mineko? Oh, that's a beautiful name." The woman did not offer her own name. "I'm here to offer you something that the other people can't. A real opportunity. The others? They were lying when they promised you fame and fortune. But me? I'm the real deal, honey. I can give you everything you could ever want in life. Riches, fame, the attention of hundreds of men at once. I can give it _all_."

Sakura's green eyes widened at her words, her expression hungry for even just a drop of that promise.

A sly wink. "I knew you'd like my offer more."

Then, Sakura's expressive face shuttered. "How do I know you're telling the truth? How do I know you're any better than the others? I'm not a cheap prostitute for you to trick. You can take your false, fancy offers elsewhere!" An indignant facade, when in reality Sakura was inwardly begging this woman to take Sakura to her boss.

"Smart girl. Come with me, I'll show you. Then you can decide whether what I've said was the truth or just empty promises." Without a second glance at Sakura to check if she would follow, the woman turned and began to saunter down the brightly lit street.

Near the end of the road stood what must have been Kabu's crowning jewel of its nightlife. A building made entirely of a silvery black reflective panes. They were trimmed with inky purple lights and a Sakura could feel a thumping beat from within the compound. It had an intoxicatingly dark allure to it. Above the building, in a blinding white for all the world to see was a single number. Seven.

"We're here," the woman said, she waved a hand at a long snaking line near the hulking entrance manned by two stocky bouncers. "I'll show you a secret entrance."

She pressed a manicured nail to the center of her lips.

They were swept up by the shadows of the night casted by the towering establishments of Kabu. The woman led Sakura to the back end of Seven and stopped in front of what appeared to be a flat expanse of a wall.

Sakura shifted on her feet uncomfortably. Beginning to doubt her own safety.

Then, the pale blond reached out with a finger to trace invisible lines on the reflective surface. She appeared to be tracing runes, arching her finger into circles, then slashing through those circles with her next movements.

Memorizing the hypnotic motions, Sakura committed the tracings to memory.

A shimmer in the wall. Then, a pitch black expanse spread from where the tracings were made, forming what vaguely resembled a doorway. The woman stepped through with Sakura following closely behind.

It was a foyer of sorts when Sakura's surroundings materialized around her again. There were people, finely dressed, milling around, chattering amiably. The place took her breath away. The walls of the club – if one could call it that, as it was so much more – were entirely constructed from glass. An interesting one-way glass. Sakura could look out onto the bustling street, but she knew from experience they could not see her. It gave Sakura an eerie elitist feel and she somehow felt more superior at that moment, as if she was given a glimpse into a world not everyone had access too. Although, she supposed, that was the purpose of the club.

The woman gently took Sakura by the hand and guided her into the next room. The walls which divided the building into large sections were made from regular glass, as she could see through from both sides of the wall.

Sakura scanned her surroundings and marvelled at its impressive beauty. It appeared that the club was sectioned into large rooms, the walls used as dividers. Each area was dedicated to a different activity. There was a large, heavily stocked buffet in the corner of her eye. A loud dinging sound that could only come from casino machines ricocheted in the air. Farther off, there seemed to be a lounge of some sort, plush couches surrounding a centered stage where a lone singer crooned her song. If she stood still enough, she could still feel the pulsing beat of unknown music vibrating beneath her feet, originating somewhere deep within the club. Everywhere she looked there was indulgence into every facet of human desires. The different types of debauchery bleeding into one another, an intended effect of the club's glass walls.

The current room she was in was rather interesting. In addition to the glass enclosure, it was littered with several vanity tables, topped with shining mirrors. People surrounded these mirrors, inspecting their reflection, some applying their makeup, most of them taking copious sips of an amber liquid. Sakura reasoned it was some sort of alcohol – she was in a club after all.

A scantily clad waitress walked by, a glass decanter of the amber liquid on her tray. The woman stopped her and filled a glass up with the gleaming liquid. She offered it to Sakura. "Would you like some?"

Feeling like a guest, Sakura accepted it graciously but did not drink. "Do you not want some for yourself?"

"I have no need for it," the woman answered, a knowing tilt to her smile. She took Sakura's hand and led them further into the crowd, passing the throngs of people captivated by their own reflection.

It occurred to Sakura how odd it was that the club would have an entire space dedicated to a powder room – the only thing which came close to what it resembled. But then, she watched in horror or apt fascination as a man eagerly tipped the contents of a goblet into his mouth. Trickles of the golden liquid spilled from the corner of his mouth and stained his crisp white collar.

He was an unremarkable man, who sported a bit of a beer belly and wore a wrinkled, old suit. He was trying to appear more impressive than he actually was. His skin was sunken in on his face, lacking youthful vigour but instead exhibiting obvious stress lines. An unflattering five o'clock shadow graced his face and did nothing to contribute to the flat planes of his visage.

But then he changed, his figure rippled in the air for a sliver of a second. His formerly dull brown hair had grown a couple of inches, now lustrous and voluminous, giving his head a tousled look. The man's body stature morphed, the belly flattening and the chest buffing. As if the man could sense Sakura's eyes on him, he turned to her. Bright green eyes winked at her, a sly grin on his face that was invigorated by his newly acquired youth. He was definitely not the same man as before.

"What is this?" Sakura gasped, spilling several droplets of the liquid as people jostled around her. She definitely wasn't going to be drinking it anytime soon, so she passed it off to a nearby waiter.

The woman laughed. "That, my dear, is the stuff of dreams. This place is where all your dreams can come true. Come on."

Too stunned to say anything more, Sakura followed her deeper into the club. She could feel the pulsing beat under her feet growing louder, more prominent.

"Where are we going?" she managed to ask, her eyes greedily taking in everything she saw.

"The heart of the club. Where the real magic happens."

Through the glass walls, Sakura could see it. An area of the club illuminated by strobe lights, where the rhythmic thumping was coming from. The thumps vaguely reminded her of an erratic heartbeat. Bodies cast in dark shadows clumped together, dancing as a mass. Thin, slender arms snaking gracefully in the air. The 'heart' of the club was actually the most reminiscent of a regular club.

They passed through the doorway cut from the glass, and Sakura was assaulted by a sweet fragrance. It was cinnamon and apples. Or was it lavender and roses? Artificial mist floated through the ground, whirling around her lower legs. She stumbled, only to be steadied by the woman.

"Watch your step, it's dark," the woman lightly admonished. Her words were barely heard over the blaring dance music.

It was a struggle, but they somehow managed to manoeuvre through the sweaty, dancing bodies. Sakura swore someone took a swipe at her ass, but nobody was paying attention to her when she turned.

When they emerged from the jumbled crowd, Sakura found herself staring at a winding staircase. Made of glass – a repeating theme, it seemed. The staircase twisted upward, disappearing into a ceiling made from the same reflective black material she saw from the outside.

The woman climbed the stairs, beckoning Sakura to follow with a finger. But she didn't move and opted to watch the woman's rising body. That is, before it was swallowed by the ceiling and the woman was gone.

A portal of some sort? Similar to the one they used outside to get into the foyer?

She reluctantly climbed the stairs, hesitating the few last steps before her head would bump with the ceiling.

When her feet found even grounding, Sakura found herself in the middle of a lavish lounge, complete with ambient low level lighting. The floor beneath her was made of that special one-way glass and Sakura briefly watched the dancing crowd, undulating to a beat she could no longer hear. There were men and women alike, clothed in dark finery relaxing on the couches and chairs. They were all dressed in black clothing accented by dark purple accessories – like a necklace, tie or cufflinks. It appeared that these people belonged to the management sector of the club. Although a particular man stood out; a proud set to the sharp features of his face and a keen intelligence to his blue eyes. Unlike the others, he wore a necktie of blood red. No markings of purple were to be found on this man. The message was clear: he was the boss and they were his subordinates. Of course the man was no other than Shinoda Kenichi.

The woman left Sakura's side, gliding over to the red adorned man and settling beside him on the couch. She partially draped her body over his, the color of her dress matching his tie precisely. A perfect power couple.

Ah, Sakura really had just walked into a lion's den.

"And Mitsuko, who is this girl?" Kenichi asked, pinning Sakura to her spot with his gaze.

Mitsuko didn't bother responding, preferring to fiddle with Kenichi's tie at the base of his neck.

"My name is Mineko, sir," Sakura replied, keeping her voice soft and demure.

"Mineko," he repeated, rolling the name over his tongue as if he could claim the name and by extension, her. "Mineko."

Sakura inclined her head in deference.

"And you wish to work for us here, Mineko-san?"

"Yes, sir."

The woman with blond hair – now known as Mitsuko – spoke up. "She's perfect, Kenichi-kun. She's exactly the type we're looking for."

The other occupants of the room roamed their eyes leisurely over Sakura's form. Supposedly forming their own conclusions. Even with the dress, Sakura felt naked and vulnerable. She instinctively wrapped her arms around her midsection and hunched her back, aiming to appear smaller.

That action didn't go unnoticed by Kenichi, who smirked. "You're right, Mitsuko. She is _exactly_ what we're looking for."

There were snide snickers from around the room – mostly from the men. But the women wore matching, knowing smiles.

Sakura wrapped her arms more tightly around herself. She would enjoy killing this man, she thought faintly.

"But now… Where would dear Mineko-san go? Where would she be the best fit?" Kenichi lightly mused aloud. His thoughts were answered by a chorus of raucous laughter.

"I'll show her a best fit!" a man shouted, gesturing to his bulging crotch lewdly. More laughter. The dark haired woman beside him tittered from behind her palm.

Sakura flushed. This was humiliating.

"She could work as a dancer downstairs. Or a singer for the poppy lounges," Mitsuko suggested. "A dealer for the casinos?"

Kenichi shook his head at each of her suggestions, shooting them down. But he did not offer any opinions of her own.

"A private performer perhaps?" The proposal did not come from Mitsuko, but instead another woman, adorned with silver hair and grey eyes. She wore a tight dress that hugged all the right places paired with elbow length gloves in the signature purple shade. "She has all the right qualities for that. I'm sure she'd have a wide fan-base with that pink hair of hers."

Both Kenichi and Mitsuko tilted their heads at the exact same angle, both mulling over the idea in their heads and regarding her with the same curious expression.

"Perhaps…" Kenichi trailed off. Then he leaned forward to take long sip from his alcoholic drink. He was making her wait. "Would you like to be a private performer, Mineko-san?"

Sakura had no idea what that position entailed. But she knew she needed a job – any job – at this club. Sakura chose to respond with, "If it pleases you, sir."

He laughed heartily and his subordinates joined in with him. Mitsuko simply offered her a grin and an arched eyebrow.

"Such an accommodating girl!" Kenichi barked, still laughing.

When their amusement died down, silence descended upon the room. The followers watching their leader expectantly, an inexplicable excitement buzzing in their postures. Several of the men gave her leering glances, licking their lips as their eyes briefly peruse her body.

Mitsuko rose elegantly and took several strides to where Sakura had been standing the entire time. She lifted Sakura's chin up so that their eyes could make direct contact.

"Are you sure about this, Mineko-san?" A softly murmured question from Mitsuko.

A final chance for Sakura to escape. To find another way to get to Shinoda Kenichi unguarded. But what is a shinobi's life without risk?

A swallow from Sakura. "Yes."

"Of course we have a special initiation all of our employees must go through. You might find it a bit unpleasant, but it will do you well to relax."

At the sound of 'initiation', Sakura's hackles are raised and she is tensed, bracing for some sort of conflict.

Collectively, the men and women rose from their chairs and couches and began to surround Sakura.

She almost reflexively stepped into a defensive battle stance, but realized that it would give away her status as a shinobi. Instead, she became deathly still, warily watching the encroaching people. The familiar, but not really comforting figure of Mitsuko had already melted back into the crowd of black and purple.

From a small, shrinking gap in the ring of people she spotted Shinoda Kenichi being tugged away by a woman with crimson hair.

Then without another warning, a nameless and faceless man grabbed her and pulled her to the floor. He pushed her screaming until she's lying on the flat of her back, the heavy weight of the unknown man pushing her down, suffocating her breath. She's yelling – although not sure for who. Nobody here is going to save her.

The man pulled at the shoulder straps of her dress and Sakura thrashed her arms and legs in the air, desperately. A woman caught one of her waving arms and holds on to it, immobilizing that particular limb. Although she can't see who, Sakura distinctly feels her kick connect with something hard.

A painful grunt echoing to her. Then a shout.

Her legs are pinned down by other anonymous characters.

There are groping hands and painful strikes which rain down on her arms and legs.

Dimly, Sakura registers what is happening to her. And she realizes that it would only take a chakra fuelled shoved to the man sitting on top of her and she would be free. She could fight this. They couldn't do this to her.

But at the same time Sakura remembers her investment in this. She couldn't reveal her status as a shinobi without making this mission twice as difficult for herself.

So she swore and screamed and shoved fruitlessly at the man sitting on top of her. Tears pooled at the corner of her eyes; terror mounting in her chest.

The heavy pressure on her front vanished for a moment, only to be replaced by a different load. A different man. This one wrapped his hands around her wrists and pressed his hot mouth against her lips. He must have smoked recently for the taste of ash fills Sakura's senses, overwhelming her and causing her to rebel in revulsion.

The crowd howled their merriment at her expense.

Suddenly, they scattered like ants, leaving her panting and gasping on the floor. Jeers and mocking laughter fill her ears and she's struck with the realization that they have been playing with her. The way a cat plays with a mouse. They want to scare her, humiliate her. And it worked. Sakura is terrified of this club, what it possibly stands for and all of its background dealings. They didn't really hurt her. She is only marked by a couple of harmless bruises and scratches and the distinct flavour of smoke in her mouth. Although worst of all, she feels like an insect among giants.

How flawlessly they played their cards. They ignore her, too engrossed in their conversations and drinks to pay attention to the easily forgotten girl kneeling on the floor. The girl with the disheveled hair and a slightly torn dress, marred by bruises, scratches and dust. A girl not worthy of their attention.

Sakura stumbled up from the floor and bolted towards the staircase. Before she made her first step down, Mitsuko's voice drifted from behind her.

"Come back here tomorrow at seven pm sharp, Mineko-san. You start work then."

She wanted to scream at Mitsuko – to ask who in their right mind would come back. But Sakura and Mitsuko both knew that by dusk tomorrow, Sakura would be back.

888

Sakura limped down the cobblestone road, her psyche more bruised than anything. They were playing mind games. Games they had years of experience playing. They revelled in their victories, eagerly awaiting for the next round to begin. Sakura knew she was the next round. Briefly, she wondered how many other girls and boys – too young and naive to know otherwise – were subject to that treatment. Broken into willing and mouldable servants for the club. A shackled mind tenfold more effective than any iron chains.

Too consumed by her troubling thoughts, Sakura doesn't notice the shadow that followed her. A shadow which carefully traced her ambling, clumsy steps. It isn't until Sakura turned off the main road and into the darkness of an alleyway that the shadow made its move.

With the advantage of surprise and negligence, the darkly obscured figure pushed Sakura against the wall, pinning her with its weight. A familiar pair of bright red eyes peering at her questioningly.

"What do you think you're doing here?"

 **A/N:** By the way, I am not condemning the consumption of meat. I eat meat all the time and I love it. And animals kill each other for food too, so we're really not all that different. It was merely said as an example! Nor do I think animals are just beasts. They do have varying degrees of intellect and awareness to them.

Also Kabukicho is actually an entertainment district in Tokyo. It's not entirely based on that, as I mainly just stole the name. Shinoda Kenichi also exists, he is the current yakuza boss – or Grandfather – in Japan. Stole the name for him too. And Mitsuko? The name comes from a character in Battle Royale. I won't spoil, but I definitely recommend that manga for fans of Hunger Games. Although I'd argue that Battle Royale is loads darker and has much more gore.

Uuuh… Now that I think about it, I'm confusing my tenses a lot. Which is kind of sad and embarrassing since English is my first language. Lul. I'm thinking of finding a beta (that's the correct term, right?), but I'm not too sure how to go about doing it. Any ideas?

Yeah, so feel free to keep on correcting any mistakes you see.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Naruto!

 _He strolled inside her office, carrying that signature foreboding aura about him, with his hands already fisted at his sides._

" _Where is she?" the man demanded without any preamble. He was very much like his father in that manner, both authoritative and unyielding_ – _even to their clear superiors._

 _With almost anyone else, Tsunade would have railed on them for the lapse of any honorifics and by extension, a lack of respect. But this particular character was a bit different, most of the time content to comply with society's restrictions, but whenever he didn't_ – _that was when people sat up a little straighter and took careful notice._

 _Knowing exactly what he meant, Tsunade slowly said, "You're going to have to be a bit more specific than that. Just because I'm Hokage doesn't mean I know the location of everyone in the village."_

" _Ridiculous. Where did you send her off to? Did you let her run?" His eyes were tempted to switch into their more intimidating form_ – _just to see if he could elicit a faster response from her._

" _I don't understand why you're so worried."_

" _Why are Naruto and Sasuke still in Konoha if she's gone?"_

So many questions _, Tsunade thought distastefully. Instead of responding, she slid across the table a manila folder._

 _The man picked it up._

 _The protective jutsu that was placed on the folder did not activate. Instead, Itachi opened it with ease, long ago earning the right to have access to sensitive information. He riffled through the papers, eyes a bright red that picked up on all relevant details._

" _You sent her on an S-ranked mission." Not a question, a statement. His tone was bordering on accusatory._

" _Yes."_

" _Hokage-sama," he began, a sign that what he would say next would most likely not go over well. "Your emotions are making you reckless."_

 _Tsunade_ – _surprisingly_ – _laughed, loud and harsh and warning._ Watch it _, the laugh said. "Do you doubt Sakura's abilities?"_

" _No."_

" _Then where is your concern coming from?"_

" _I doubt her ability to make the right decisions when she is angry_ – _or mad_ – _or upset."_

 _Donning her metaphorical, invisible angel wings and cupids bow, Tsunade gave Itachi a new mission._

" _What kind of mission is it?" he asked, wary with the sudden change in topic._

" _A simple mission, not S-ranked or even A-ranked."_

 _A raised eyebrow from Itachi. He could see where this was going._

" _Go make sure your fiancée doesn't do anything rash."_

888

Easier said than done.

"What do you think you're doing here?" he repeated, relaxing his grip on her, but still encasing her in his cage of arms.

Even in the dim lighting of the night, he caught her rolling eyes. She scoffed at him, turning away. "I think the better question is, 'What are _you_ doing here?'" she said. "Oh great clan heir."

"Well, you can imagine my surprise when my fiancée just up and left one day. Not a single word from her."

"I thought Tsunade said this was a classified mission." A slight taste of betrayal coating her tongue. She was supposed to have three weeks of freedom without any Uchihas. So much for that.

"It is classified." He gave a pompous smirk. "I just have access to everything."

Itachi made a move to reposition himself, inadvertently brushing against Sakura's rib cage. He noticed the flinch that crossed over her face.

Her small hands grasped his forearms, as if to restrain him from repeating the action.

That was when he noticed the decoration of bruises around her collarbone and neck. Red marks which marred her arms and were especially concentrated around her wrists. Dots of blood on her bottom lip, where either she - or someone else - must have bit. The ripped seams of the dress at her shoulder. The dishevelled appearance of her usually well-kept

hair. Lastly, the fragrance of cologne consumed him, spicy flavours mixed with artificial scents compounding him. Itachi felt an irrational anger bubble within his veins.

"Why do you smell like cologne?"

She did not deign to answer, but uttered a quiet "stop".

Really, out of all the things to focus on, Itachi decided to focus on the inconsequential. He mentally berated himself and tried again.

"Why are you hurt?"

"I can heal myself. It's nothing."

Stepping away from her, Itachi made a few hand seals, allowing black crows which burst forth from his corporal being to surround them. Within seconds, they were whisked from the dark confines of the alley to a spacious living area of a hotel room.

With the brighter lighting of the room, Itachi was fully able to take in Sakura's conditions. Her skin was the epitome of a bad abstract painting. Splotches of drab color mingled with several scratches covered her arms and legs. She stood away from him, hands wrapped around her middle and her eyes casted to the floor.

There was an inexplicable itchiness within him. Guilt? _Guilt._

He watched, in his characteristic muted fashion, as Sakura began to run her hands across her arms, smoothing them over her ribs, stomach and legs. Her hands glowed a pale green, a sign of her signature healing chakra. It didn't take long for the bruises and scratches to fade, but her chakra didn't fix the loosely hanging shoulder of the dress, or the blood that smeared across the lower portion of her face.

Was he supposed to point that out to her?

"What?" she asked sharply, noticing his unwavering stare on her. "Why do you keep looking at me?"

He didn't respond, but simply gave his own bottom lip a rub.

"Oh." She awkwardly turned away from him, scrubbing furiously at the mouth and seeing the blood flakes dust her pale skin.

Tired of this unfamiliar territory, Itachi decided to venture back into familiar waters. Anything and everything to do with missions. "Did you locate the target yet? Shinoda Kenichi?"

"Yeah." Sakura settled on one end of the couch, arching her back in a satisfying stretch. "He's got this… Cult that follows him. It's messed. They're all actually messed. But if I can be alone with him for just a second, I know I could kill him."

Having poured two glasses of water for both of them, he joined her on the opposite end of the couch, a respectful meter distance between them. "How do you plan to infiltrate his 'cult' then?"

Sakura gave a wry sort of smile and refused to meet his eyes. "Easy. I work for him."

"At his club?"

"Yup. I'm a –" She slid her eyes to his, pausing briefly for dramatic effect. "Private performer."

Unsurprisingly, Itachi didn't give a noticeable reaction. He took a small sip of his water and gave her his famous expression – an arched eyebrow over unimpressed dark eyes. "Really? And what does that entail?"

She hesitated – not really too sure of an answer. Sure, the title was intriguing in its own way – but a private performer could be _anything_. "I don't know?"

"Is that a question or a statement?"

"Question – I mean statement. Statement."

Itachi gave a nod, reclining in his position on the couch and opting to stare at the blank, black TV screen. She still hadn't explained the attacks on her person and he knew that an interrogation with that particular female wouldn't yield any results. So, silence reigned. Both of them taking dainty sips of their water.

Sakura would take a sip, Itachi would follow after. Then, a little while later, Itachi would take a sip and Sakura would follow after. It was almost a companionable silence.

888

The moon was just about to make its nightly appearance. The sky was painted with hues of gold and red and purple. Sakura was heavily painted in make-up – preparing for _her_ first nightly appearance. Smoky eyes achieved with the help of some smeared charcoal, flawless complexion created with foundation and lips dyed in a red akin to that of the sharingan. Still, she hadn't touched her hair, unsure of whether to leave it in loose curls or to tie them up in pig tails. Of course the pig tails were meant to appeal to certain people's baser instincts – more specifically, Shinoda Kenichi.

In the end, Sakura chose a single loose ponytail, long enough for her to drape over a shoulder.

Smiling at her reflection, she shrugged into her tulle layered black dress for the evening's festivities.

However, when Itachi saw her, he gave her a strange look, then scoffed. "Are you going as somebody's wet dream?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. Don't you think Kenichi-san will just love me?" She gave a theatrically twirl, the soft layers of the dress' skirt bouncing in the air.

"And how do you know what his tastes are?"

She gave – what she hoped was – a mysterious smile. "A woman never reveals her secret." Then, she gave a wink for proper effect.

Itachi shifted from his spot on the couch, uncomfortably. "I didn't think this was a seduction mission too. What was Tsunade thinking," he muttered quietly.

He, too, was dressed for Kabu's nightlife. Dark slacks paired with a simple blue button up, sleeves rolled up casually. It was basically what he wore every day. Lucky for him, a man lacking ostentation, his day clothes passed beautifully as night clothes.

With a sigh and a stretch, Itachi got off the couch and extended a hand towards Sakura, the action reminiscent of their engagement party. "Shall we go then?"

Sakura smiled graciously, accepted his warm fingers and together they set off into the lamp lit streets of Kabu.

They talked as they walked, Sakura pointing out her observations on the passing buildings and the general atmosphere of the Land of Sin. Itachi listened mostly, although that isn't to say he didn't interject with his own opinions. Perhaps it was their first civil conversation with each other, one that didn't have to do with professional business such as missions, and one that didn't end in bitter yelling. It was not like their exchanged words at their engagement party, saturated with saccharine sugar, if only to mask the poisonous undertones. It wasn't like their conversation at the hospital where their sole purposes were to maim each other with angry words. This was genuine and simple. They were friends – at least for that short space of time.

It was nice, Sakura realized with a jolt afterwards.

When they neared the black reflective planes of glass which signified the club, Seven, Sakura and Itachi stepped away from each other. The latter giving a small nod before he mingled into the line of people – content with watching Sakura's progress hidden. Sakura, who had no such luxury, waltzed through the front entrance, past the robust bouncers. The bouncers, who must have been notified of a new brightly pink haired worker, let her through with ease.

She passed the strange foyer filled with flasks of amber liquid and was tempted to down a glass herself. It was technically an undercover mission and here the enemy was literally giving her the perfect disguise on a silver platter. But she didn't, too wary of the zealous looks in the eyes of the drinkers. They peered into their own faked reflection, inspecting their new skin and face. They intimately believed that what they saw was truth. And that level of blindness did not sit well with Sakura.

Ignoring the waitress who offered her a filled golden glass, Sakura found her way to the same staircase as yesterday, easily following the thumping beat of the music. She descended it and expected a similar sight to the night before to greet her. However, the luxurious lounge was mostly empty. There were two occupants, three, if Sakura was counted. A shower of golden locks and a curvy figure draped in red indicated Mitsuko and the other figure – moon light white hair and grey eyes. Sakura didn't know her name, but she did recognize the woman as someone who spoke last night. Once they were alerted of Sakura's presence, they slinked over, eerily reminding Sakura of twin Siamese cats.

The other woman, the same one who had suggested Sakura become a private performer, wrapped a loose tendril of pink hair around her gloved hand. She smiled serenely, as if she held all the secrets of the universe in her mind and was blessing them with her presence.

"Such a beautiful color," she remarked, rubbing a couple strands between her fingers. "So soft."

Instinctively, Sakura felt ill. This woman was unpredictable. Yesterday, when she made the suggestion, she had looked sincere, someone just trying to be helpful. But not even five minutes later, Sakura remembered the wicked smile plastered over her face as she encouraged and participated in their disturbed initiation. Now, there was an envious glint in her eyes as she inspected the curls of pink hair. That, paired with her wistful, dreamy demeanor gave off warning bells in Sakura's mind.

She managed a polite "thank you" before stepping away from the woman.

"Stop it Kaori, you're scaring poor Mineko-san!" Mitsuko admonished without much vigour, not before reaching out to slap her hand away from Sakura's head.

Kaori laughed lightly, musical notes spilling from her mouth. "Are you ready for your first day of work, Mineko-san?" Her words were all honeyed and soft.

Nervously, Sakura made a sound of confirmation.

"Great!" Kaori's voice was now suddenly bubbly and upbeat. "You can go now, your shift ends at three in the morning. The club takes thirty percent of all your earnings. You set the prices, but I'd recommend you overcharge, honey." With her hands grasping Sakura's shoulders, she turned the startled girl around and gave her a hard shove in the direction of the staircase.

A cold touch encircled her wrist as she was pushed forth and looking down she noted a simple metal bracelet hanging around her wrist, glinting with a mauve hue.

"The bracelet will tell customers that you're a private performer," sang Kaori with unexplainable gleeful delight.

Sakura was startled to say the least. She had expected at least a day of receiving instruction. This was all too new to her – what was a private performer even supposed to do? "Don't I get any training?" she managed to gasp out, stopping in her tracks.

"No."

"How will I get customers?"

Mitsuko's voice drifted to her from behind. "You don't need to go looking for them, Mineko-san. They'll come to you – especially with that hair of yours."

"But – but – "

"Oh, but there is one rule you should know," said Mitsuko. "Here, we have a motto, if you will. _Anything goes._ "

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, if someone tells you to jump – "

Kaori interjected, "You ask, ' _How high?_ '".

Sakura stumbled down the staircase, too unnerved by their matching, melodic giggles. _Twin witches,_ Sakura inwardly cursed them.

888

They're off in the corner of the club. They found each other, even in the dimness, with their clutching, desperate grasps. Faint familiarity drew each to the other, hooking them in. Both of them swaying to the beating music under the flashing strobe lights. The artificial smoke curled around the pair, assaulting her with cinnamon and filling him with the sweet scent of vanilla.

A special smoke, white-tinged, suffused with special aphrodisiac properties that enticed each individual's specific preferences, crawled along the floor. A useful tool to have in a club that encouraged uninhibited lust. Not that any of the customers knew.

She pressed closer to him, her hands trailing across his chest and back. Her head fitting perfectly in the crook of his neck. He had his arms wrapped around her, surprisingly accommodating as he allowed her bold ministrations. His eyes were closed, his conscious wall down and he relished in her warmth and pliable softness.

Suddenly, an idea popped into the girl's head and she shifted her position.

"Let's go, they have rooms here." She slipped her hand into his and led them to the glass rooms the clubbed offered.

The rooms were sparsely furnished. A futon and a vanity table bearing more of that amber liquid. Thick velvet curtains lined the walls, providing privacy in a world of transparency. The girl pulled the curtains shut.

The thick, sweet smelling smoke continued to seep under the space beneath the curtains. It danced around their feet, occasionally drifting upwards – as if it had a mind of its own. They slipped into their roles almost automatically. Sweet lovers for the night.

The girl, hips still moving to the music, poured two glasses of beautiful golden liquid. "Have some. It'll help the nerves," she said.

The boy – man? – obliged. Both of them downing their glasses with the same fluid motions. She settled over his lap, inviting his warm hands to encircle her waist.

"You're beautiful." Whispered compliments from her to him, as she ran loving fingers over smooth skin then through wonderfully, silky, sunlight hair. Eyes that reminded her of an unblemished afternoon sky, crinkled at her words.

He ran his hands up her back, inciting a delicious shiver from her and threaded his fingers through her chocolate spun strands. Tipping her head back, so he could have access to her vulnerable neck, he gave her soft kisses along the unmarked length of skin. "You're perfect," he murmured, his answering compliment.

They both gave small laughs. Higher giggles mingling with lower chuckles. Their breaths mixing in the air. The smoke smothering them in its intoxicating scent.

The warm coffee brown eyes of the girl met those of the boy – bright, startling blue eyes. It was as if they were lost in each other's depths, peering into the very fabric of their lover's being, through the eyes – windows to the soul, so they said. Alone, but not lonely in their own world of fantastic solidarity. Hands glided over the other's body, searching for bare skin eagerly. Kisses, given freely, peppered the face, neck, arms – everywhere.

"Take your shirt off," she gasped, the demand clear in her tone.

His actions were quick and fluid, fingers flying down the buttons of his shirt. A moment later, the forgotten fabric hitting the floor. The next moment, the zipper of her dress was already halfway down her back, thanks to the insistent tugging of his fingers.

They were in a trance, too deeply sated with lust and falsified passion to think clearly. The words of a crooning female singer drifted into the heady room, filling their heads.

" _Likes to watch me in the glass room, bathroom, Chateau Marmont,_

 _slipping on my red dress,_

 _putting on my makeup,"_

She gave a tug on the waistband of his pants. His thumb lightly brushed the underside of her breasts. Their lips were locked in an exploratory and demanding kiss – barely enough room for them to take a breath.

" _Glass film, perfume,"_

He drew both sleeves of her dress downwards, revealing her sun kissed shoulders prime for his teasing touches.

" _Cognac, lilac fumes,"_

Her fingers dipped below the waistband of his pants. An excited, almost predatory gleam in her eyes. She knew the next words to the song, so she tilted her head to murmur in his ear, her voice dropping an octave and taking on a sultry quality.

"Says it feels like heaven to him."

Cinnamon and apples for her. Spicy, sweet vanilla for him.

Her hand ghosted over the prominent, hard bulge hidden underneath the thin fabric of his boxers. The touch was light and tantalizing and gone all too soon.

"Oh god! Fuck me please!"

Another couple stumbled into the room, past the swishing velvet curtains. A burly red faced man lurched dangerously to one side, one of his arms supporting a petite woman wrapped around his frame. Pure ecstasy apparent on her face, as she ground herself against him. They stopped abruptly when they noticed there were still occupants inside the room.

"Baby, there's already people in here. So sorry!" The last words directed to the frozen, seated couple. Still, in her words there was none of that expected sheepish quality – even as she began to continue her grinding against the man. The man, too, was unperturbed, simply offering an apologetic chuckle before backing out.

The girl, turned back to face her blue eyed lover, shock written over both of their faces.

The spell was broken, as fragile as the glass room they were in, but more intoxicating than the strongest opium.

Mortified, she flung herself off him, landing on her ass against the cold floor. That only served to remind her exactly where she was, what she had been about to do and with _whom_.

"Itachi?" she questioned breathlessly. But she already knew the truth.

Now, the details flooded back to her and she registered the significance of them. How his black hair had lightened to mimic the color of streaming sunlight, his eyes brightened to shine like a perfect sky. The way his muscular build lost most of its muscle mass – the body deceptively that of a civilian. How he had willingly altered his body to become the very _definition_ of light. At the same time, she had watched her pink strands darken to a burnt umber in her peripheral vision. While she could not physically feel the difference, when she looked down, she had noticed her breasts were fuller, her hips flaring more. And her usually pale skin had darkened to an olive tone. They both became different people.

But how could they have forgotten that they weren't?

Itachi didn't answer, an angry scowl etched onto his features. He rose from his seat to retrieve his tossed shirt and shoved past Sakura to exit the room, not even bothering to put it on.

But the unmistakable growl of his words still reached Sakura's ears. "The fucking smoke."

888

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck._

Itachi wasn't sure if he was actually physically shaking or if it was just a result of his current mental instability. To be forcibly thrown from that picturesque fantasy in that glass room… He was shaken. And angry – at his lack of self-control, even if it was clearly a result of whatever aphrodisiac they had pumped into the smoke, which was currently coursing through his veins. Still, to have had required the interruption of another lust-crazed couple to snap him out of that sick fantasy was unacceptable. He should have been able to recognize the signs – of how wrong everything was. But it had felt so right.

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, acknowledging its normal dark coloring. Now, he was still horny. And Sakura or no Sakura, he still wanted relief.

In a club called Seven, for the seven deadly sins, no doubt – how hard could it be to find a prostitute? Although, they probably didn't go by prostitutes around these parts. Perhaps they considered themselves an escort, something classier.

He stumbled from the darkly illuminated dance floor, filled with the hedonistic-inducing drug, into another room.

Couches of all shapes and sizes scattered the living area. Settees, divans, circular couches, chaise lounges. Plush pillows were arranged on all of them, mingling amongst those were some fur throws, here and there. Men and women alike lounged on these lush furnishings, a deadened gaze in their eyes. Some of them inhaled another kind of smoke from dark pipes, and a look of undiluted euphoria passed over their faces briefly, before being quickly replaced by blankness.

Slaves to their own addiction. Itachi knew they would come back here night after night, if only for a single hit of whatever drug this was. This was a club that ensnared its customers with enticing, addicting pleasures. A clever trap meant for the weaknesses that lurked in every human's mind.

Itachi grimaced, disgusted with the owner of the establishment and the flaws of humanity. Although, he was being a sort of hypocrite, wasn't he? He was so close to giving in to his own base desires only moments before.

There was a woman in the center of the room, a brighter spotlight illuminating her features and dress. She was a performer for the club and she sang a soft, hypnotizing song. Itachi doubted that any of the people reclining on the couches were aware of her presence. But he didn't deny the lulling quality of her voice – it invited him to take a seat, close his eyes and perhaps take a deep breath to inhale the lingering smoke.

He left the room.

Of course his salvation – or damnation – would come in the form of a woman. She slinked from the shadows of the room and smiled at him. A clear invitation in her dark blue eyes. She tossed her shining, perfectly tousled hair over a shoulder, bringing his attention to the bare skin of her shoulders and arms – and her ample cleavage.

A silvery purple bracelet was on her wrist, one that matched Sakura's, so Itachi knew she must have worked for the club too.

"Do you need some help, honey?" she asked, a single hand extended out towards him while the other one ran down her sides.

"What makes you think I need help?" Itachi, all but growled at her. She was a danger to the world. Well, perhaps only half of the world.

She gave a meaningful glance at the crotch of his pants. "I have eyes," she began. "But… Perhaps I am the one who needs help." A hand trailed across her stomach and she wouldn't stop looking at him with that damn expression.

She was all sensuality, her very presence an invigorating aphrodisiac. So different from Sakura, who was all unrefined edges and a biting sharpness. This woman was soft, inviting and the epitome of desire all rolled into one.

Itachi took her hand and let her lead the way back to a familiar area. This glass room was slightly bigger than the last. It was furnished with a sprawling canopy bed and completed with silky drapes. The woman pulled the velvet curtains shut before heading towards the vanity table in the corner.

She gracefully poured a single glass of amber for him. "Would you like some?" she asked. "It'll help with the nerves."

He didn't question why she did not pour a glass for herself, since perfection should never be changed. So he took the glass and like before, tipped the contents into his mouth.

Then, he guided the woman to the soft mattress and pushed her underneath him. As he trailed hot kisses up her neck, he requested her name.

"Mitsuko."

888

The night was an almost disaster. She had almost fucked Itachi in a club, where anyone could have – and did – walked in. She wasn't any step closer to her assassination target. Nor did she have any information or indication of where the kidnapping victim was. But, she didn't blow her cover. Which she almost did the first time a man request a lap dance from her. She found the amber liquid to be her saving grace. She donned another identity for her customers, and if they had specifically requested her for her rose colored hair, they didn't complain. Not since she usually knocked them out with some medical ninjutsu in the privacy of the velvet enclosed glass rooms. And, she made quite a bit of money in just one night. It was almost understandable how girls flocked for jobs like these. Almost.

She arrived back at the hotel during the dying vestiges of night before Itachi. Which was surprising, since she believed he would hightail it back after their awkward fiasco. It wasn't awkward in the moment, in fact, it was very... hot. Not that she'd ever admit it to him.

As Sakura dug into her Chinese take-out, Itachi came stumbling into the room, looking less than stellar in his wrinkled clothing.

"Itachi-san?" She adopted the honorific again, if only to regain a sense of normalcy. "Where did you go? I thought you would have come back earlier."

He gave his signature awkward half smile. One that was clearly forced and fake. "I stayed a bit to explore the club more, to see what else it had."

"Did you find anything interesting?"

Itachi made a low sound in his throat, an affirmative response. "Did you find anything useful?"

She sighed and covered her face in her hands. "No, I was kept busy all night. I don't know how I'm supposed to find her if I'm _working_ all night. And I didn't see Kenichi at all tonight either."

He was silent and sat on the opposite end of the table, slowly eating the warm greasy noodles.

When he had passed by her, the close proximity allowed Sakura to take a whiff of a strange scent. It was vaguely familiar to her, but Sakura couldn't quite place it. She frowned, thinking deeply about that floral aroma. She was fairly sure Itachi didn't wear cologne as she didn't notice any when they were all over each other – and if he did, it would have been of cinnamon, not of lilac and lavender.

888

Itachi noticed her expression and was consequentially unnerved by it. "What's wrong, Sakura-san?"

"You smell weird." There was no other explanation.

Would he explain himself to her? Would she be angry? No, that would be ridiculous. They were in a purely political marriage and therefore had no emotional connection or obligations to each other. Sakura had made that clear long ago.

He hesitated briefly before replying, "I slept with a woman there."

An unidentifiable look passed over her face, the lines on her forehead deepening for a split second before smoothing out the next.

"It was for intel," he said, as if to explain himself. As if that justified everything. He wasn't even sure if he was telling the truth or not. That night was a blur of pleasure indulging activities. He hadn't let loose like that in a long time – or ever, really.

"Ah." Sakura smiled, it was sort of small, but it seemed genuine to him. "Thank you, I suppose. But you don't need to."

 _But I wanted too_ , he thought. "I'll keep that in mind. So, what's our next course of action?" He was changing the subject, because talking about his sex life with his fiancée was too weird, to say the least.

"Our? You mean mine? I wasn't aware when this became our mission."

"If you let me help you, this mission will be over sooner and we can go back to Konoha faster."

"But where's the rush, Itachi-san? We - I have all the time in the world."

There it was. The truth. Although it wasn't too surprising to find out that his unwilling fiancée was slightly reluctant to return to Konoha. When she returned it would be less of a home to her and more of a cage. But Konoha had been a cage for him for a long time and he had acclimated perfectly fine.

"Our wedding is soon," he offered. As if that was enough enticement for her to return to Konoha. More like a deterrent.

"I still have three weeks. And that's plenty of time for me to assassinate this fucker."

No response. They finished their food in strained silence before leaving the table to their respective rooms.

888

It was still early morning when Sakura was startled from her dream. It had been of a sweet smelling incense filled ballroom with twirling masked people. The dream slipped from her fingers as a squeak resounded from the kitchen again. Groggily, she sent out her searching chakra, a bit taken aback when she found the sole occupant of the kitchen to be Itachi. It must have been eight or nine in the morning – but they had just gone to sleep at around four.

"Ah, Sakura-san, did I wake you?" Itachi asked, when he saw Sakura ambling dazedly towards him. He had the decency to sound abashed.

"Yeah, you did. I think you should make it up to me," she muttered, not quite thinking straight.

He did make it up to her, by gently guiding Sakura to a seated position on the couch and brewing her a cup of sweetened milk tea.

"Oh gross, you drink sweet tea?" Sakura gave a pinched expression at the sugary concoction. "I never pegged you as that type."

"Did you expect me to enjoy bitter black tea?" he asked, a genuine curious expression on his face.

"Yes." There was no hesitation from Sakura and did he really expect a different response? Couldn't he tell what kind of vibe he gave off from a day to day basis? Still, she was surprised at the fallen expression on his face, as if he really didn't know what others thought of him.

She felt like a bully. She had basically insinuated he was a bitter and spiteful man, but how could she even pass judgement on a man she didn't know? "It's just the way you come off to the people, you know," Sakura stammered, hiding behind her large teacup. "It's a bit intimidating – people are put off by it."

"But I don't do anything."

"Yeah, but – "

Itachi interrupted her, moving to tower over her small seated from on the couch. There was intensity in his gaze, a rigid set to his figure and his arms were folded across his chest. "What exactly about me is intimidating?"

He was kidding right? Sakura hesitated. How could he be so utterly oblivious? "Everything?"

"Is that a question or a statement?"

Not one to repeat mistakes, Sakura responded confidently, "A statement."

A semi-slouch almost formed on the man, that is, until he settled on the couch beside her, a thoughtful look on his face. The momentarily openness was gone replaced by his usual stoicism.

"Did you have trouble sleeping, Itachi-san?" she asked, fishing for a conversation starter.

He gave a small grunt, something that resembled a positive response. But he didn't give her any explanation, probably because he felt she didn't deserve one.

"I could help you sleep with my chakra – if you want."

Itachi tilted his head and turned to face her on the couch, crossing his legs. She mirrored his position and reached her hands out slowly. They were close to each other, sharing body heat as the sun continued its ascent in the orange sky. It lit up the window behind Itachi giving him an ethereal glow. Sakura stretched her fingers forward and sent healing chakra to light up the tips.

"Come closer," she urged, her voice soft and she felt as if she was treating a child. Untrusting but with an untainted innocence. The last part should not have fit Itachi at all – an ANBU was a far cry from untainted. But Sakura thought that it was an apt description for his mannerisms.

But, he was hesitant and a bit wary of her fingers, all too aware of what they were capable of. So she scooted closer, their legs rubbing against each other as she shifted on the couch.

He stilled, too tense. Even though he allowed her fingers to near his temples, it was clear Itachi was agitated. Fisted hands strained against the dark material of his pants and he instinctively turned on his swirling sharingan to watch her every movement.

Mimicking his earlier movement, Sakura tilted her head towards him. Their faces were just inches from each other and Sakura's fingertips were a mere hair's breadth away from the sides of his forehead.

She had healed him before, but all that had required was a simple swipe along his forearm. It didn't seem nearly as intimate as this. This necessitated at least a modicum of trust between the patient and doctor.

"Do you trust me?" Sakura asked.

Another affirmative grunt emitted from him and Itachi closed his eyes, a sign of submission to her.

She continued forth and her fingers brushed against his head, soothing chakra pumping through his brain cells. Within seconds, Itachi slumped forward, his forehead bumping against Sakura's and deep breathing engaged his entire being. He looked relaxed, his usual prominent frown lines were gone. He looked too young, too young to be an ANBU captain. They were both too young to be forced into _this_ , but they would both do it for the sake of duty. Too different, but in some ways, too similar.

Sakura pulled him down in a lying position on the couch and gently tugged his tangled legs apart. She spread a light cloak over his prone figure, before retreating back to her own room.

 **A/N:** I don't know if anyone will be angry with the fact that Itachi slept with another woman - but they're only in a political marriage at this point and they're not even married yet. So they don't owe each other jack shit. Besides, you know the saying: _what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas._ Or, _what happens in Kabu stays in Kabu?_

Itachi is probably going to be a bit ooc, but … hopefully things pan out.

And Seven is supposed to be the physical manifestations of the deadly seven sins. You can probably tell which sins are what so far. But, there are two I don't think I've mentioned yet. Which is the sin of wrath and pride.

I already have an idea for wrath which will come up in the next chapter. But I have no idea what to do for pride. Nothing fits. Any ideas? If I can't find anything that fits, I might alter envy a bit (the amber liquid).

Oh, and that song? It's from Lana Del Rey Off to the Races, second verse. I highly recommend you guys listen to it to really get how Sakura says that line.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Naruto!

That's how the first week passed for Sakura. Late nights at Seven where she dutifully did her 'performances' for her customers. Surprisingly, some of them were even loyal and would seek her out night after night. God only knows what kind of things they dreamt of when Sakura knocked them out. She didn't see Shinoda Kenichi at all for the first week, which caused an acute panic to begin stirring in her stomach. When the moon faded in the sky and the sun was beginning to peek from the horizon, Sakura went home. Sometimes, she sought Itachi out beforehand and they travelled back to their hotel together. Sometimes, he was nowhere to be found and those days Sakura would note that a sweet floral perfume would accompany him. Those days, Sakura knew, he spent time with his lover there.

Then, at the hotel, they occasionally would make small talk. But most of the time they talked about the mission – the only thing they really had in common. They contemplated their next moves and updated each other – pathetic updates at that. Their small talk happened over a small dinner of some sort and was followed by their retirement to their separate moons.

But, perhaps every other day, Sakura rose early – at around eight or nine in the morning, which was way too early for a night worker like her. A small sound in the kitchen, not obnoxiously loud, but significant enough to rouse any decent shinobi from their slumber. And then she would stumble from her bedroom and find Itachi, like on their second night, warily sitting on the couch. In these moments they never exchanged a word. Itachi would watch her with his onyx eyes as a form of acknowledgement and Sakura would approach him to send a gentle pulse of chakra to his temples.

Like the second night, he would tip forward, forehead brushing against hers. Like the second night, she would rearrange him into a comfortable position on the couch and cloak him with the same blanket.

This time was different.

Sakura reached towards him, her fingers splayed on either side of his head, already glowing with green chakra. But before she could brush his temples, he snagged her wrist in his hand.

"Itachi-san?'

He peered at her, scrutinizing and critical. He must have seen the prominent eye bags she had, the ones she concealed every night. "Are you having trouble sleeping, Sakura-san?" he asked, lowering the hand that had her wrist onto his lap.

"Sometimes. But it's only because I'm worried."

Itachi tilted his head, urging her to continue. Coincidentally, he had forgotten he was still grasping Sakura's hand, so it remained where it was, basking in his delicious body heat.

"What if we don't find her? She could be in another brothel for all we know – he could have sold her!" She was fretting, fretting about the unpredictability of the mission. There were too many unknown variables for her to sort through. "Not to mention she could be wearing a different face every day, how the fuck are we supposed to know what she looks like at this point?"

Itachi, on the other hand was unconcerned, but that didn't mean he was neglecting his duties. Instead, he was currently preoccupied with repeatedly running his thumb over the pulse point in her wrist. His soothing touch sending shivers throughout her body. He looked absolutely engrossed with the smooth texture of her skin – it seemed that he hadn't heard a single word she said.

"Itachi-san?"

He let go of her wrist abruptly, pink tingeing his cheeks and he glanced away from her. "Ah, sorry. We should get some sleep before we discuss anything else, Sakura-san. Don't worry." Not a request, an order.

Strangely enough, that day, neither of them slept.

888

He didn't seek out his lover that night, instead he sought out his fiancée and found her form exiting a velvet enclosed glass room. Itachi slipped a hand through hers and pulled her away to the shadows. This time, both of them were careful not to inhale too much of the intoxicating smoke.

"What is it?" Sakura asked, honestly a bit curious. Itachi never seemed like the type to share his findings with such enthusiasm.

"There's a place I think you'd like to see," he briefly explained, guiding her with an arm on the small of her back through the dark, dancing masses. "I think you'd like the atmosphere there."

He knew Sakura missed his sarcasm.

Inwardly, he was eagerly anticipating her reaction. It was a place he was sure she hadn't stepped foot in, especially since she spent the majority of her time in the thumping 'heart' of Seven with its blaring music and strobing lights.

They came to a secluded section of the club. Like the others, it was a large glass room, except this one had dark reflective panes of glass that prevented them from looking within. A completely concealed area. What debauchery could it contain that was so unfit to be on display in a club like Seven - that specialized in overindulgence?

Itachi smirked when Sakura's eyes widened and alighted with burning curiosity.

"What is this place?"

"Here, let me show you." He pulled her inside, passing by the velvet curtains that obscured the entrance.

888

They entered a world dyed in red. The opaque walls were cloaked in drapes of crimson satin. The various furnishings which decorated the room were various shades of that bloody color. Normally, red was indicative of violence and bloodshed and there was certainly an undertone of violent tendencies – with the chains, whips, flogs and what not.

Itachi was the one who entered first, his face remaining impassive as the depraved scenery before him unfolded. Although Itachi's back obscured most of Sakura's field of vision as she came up behind him, a sharp intake of breath sounded from her.

From the corner of the room, a woman was spread eagle and chained to a wooden post. Angry red markings crisscrossed over her naked front. A darkly clothed man stood near her swung a long trailing whip on the floor lazily. Then, he suddenly raised his brandishing arm and brought the whip flying across her navel.

Sakura flinched as she watched in rapt attention.

The woman scream. Except it fizzled out into – a moan?

Sakura was bewildered. The man raised his hand again to prepare for another strike.

"Itachi-san! We have to stop him – "

"Wait," Itachi commanded, a hand on her arm to prevent her from dashing over to the bound woman and no doubt making a troublesome scene.

She watched the pair from afar in horror. The man had stopped his lashes and seemed to be conversing with the woman.

"Please! Please – I – No –" The woman seemed to be desperately begging, pleading for the torture to end.

Sakura was seconds away from stopping the poor woman's abuse. That was until the man landed another blow. This time, across the woman's breast. Except this one was softer, not making the harsh _crack_ as it flew through the air. It was a feather-light touch against the woman's body. This time, the woman _moaned_ – audibly. And Sakura heard – clearly.

Confused, she turned to her fiancé, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Where the fuck did you bring me Itachi?"

He smiled good-naturedly. It seemed the only times a non-awkward smile came from him was when it was at her expense. And he was definitely enjoying her doe-eyed expression as she tried to grasp the conflicting imagery she was receiving. Pain and pleasure, intermingled so intimately, she couldn't even tell the difference between the two.

"This, Sakura –" He dropped the usual honorifics as he bent down to whisper mirthfully into her ear. "Is the world of BSDM. Or sadism and masochism, if you will."

"And you thought I would enjoy this?" she hissed back, finally deciding to wrench his hand off her arm. "Are you mad?"

"Yes, I did think you would enjoy this," he said with a strong air of self-assurance. Once again – he seemed to have a bad habit of doing so – Itachi grasped her hand and led her deeper in the chamber.

They passed dozens and dozens of people, all in various states of undress – from the completely nude to the completely clothed. It seemed here, that the very possession of clothing was a statement of power. Sakura noted that it was usually the bare that were in states of submission, while the master – or dominant, she would later learn – was fully clothed. It only made Sakura tug her thin cardigan around her shoulders tighter. They were also in various positions. Positions of subservience and dominance, sexual positions – even positions that were only meant for furniture. She recalled a poor man bent over, contorting his body to resemble that of a leg rest, allowing a woman to use his back as so.

And it was loud. The air was filled with a cacophony of sounds that grated on Sakura's ears and sent chills up her spine intermittently. Piercing, pained shrieks were punctuated with lusty, breathy moans and low grunts. The vocal sounds were spread amidst the tinkling of metal chains, rustling of silk bonds, and the slapping of leather against flesh. And, every once in a while, a terror-inducing wail would carry through the room – the sound of a man or woman orgasming as they screeched their lover's name.

"Itachi!" Sakura snarled, grabbing his arm and pulling him to a full stop. She was completely unnerved, uncomfortable and utterly removed from her comfort zone. He better have a good explanation for why they were there – and it better not have been: because he wanted to make her feel _that_ distressed. "You better tell me, _right now_ , why the hell you brought me here, because I swear to god – I am about to –"

Abruptly, he grabbed her shoulders and swivelled her to face away from him, her back pressing against his warm front.

" _The fuck?"_

"Look," he said, leaning over her shoulder to point at something in the distance. Or someone.

 _Shinoda Kenichi_. Possibly the most elusive man in the world.

Genuine surprise lit up her green eyes as she asked him, "How did you know he would be here?"

Itachi had a mischievous glint in his eyes, but otherwise did not say anything. He urged her forward with a warm hand against her back and a gentle push in Shinoda Kenichi's general direction. "Here's your chance. Go, I'll be back. I have somewhere to be first."

Sakura watched his receding back briefly before he disappeared amongst the crowds of people. Absently, she wondered if he would return smelling of the sickeningly sweet perfume. She felt oddly confused. Was she supposed to be jealous? Was she supposed to care? Digging a bit deeper, she found that she did mind the undisguised fact that Itachi had a lover. But, she did not even hold any deep attachment or affection for him, she had no right to hold any possessiveness over him. Gritting her teeth, Sakura shook her thoughts from the dangerous direction they were heading and slinked over to where Shinoda Kenichi was, careful to remain obscured by the shadows.

The man was hovering over someone. A diminutive figure that was fully unclothed and laying vulnerably on top of a marble slab. Kenichi, himself, was partially unclothed, with a bare chest and pants that were opened at the crotch. His two arms were braced on either side of the petite figure, a woman, and he was thrusting forward in a rhythmic pattern. Low grunts of pleasure came rumbling from deep within his chest, mixing with the woman's soft pants.

Sakura adjusted her angle, trying to get a better look at the woman, wishing she could use Itachi's convenient sharingan.

The woman had flaming hair, fanned out in a circle around her face. She had glowing olive-toned skin, a straight sloped nose, dark eyes framed with even darker lashes. Vague recognition hit Sakura and she shifted more in the shadows, reaching for a different perspective. _Rei_. The woman matched the small Polaroid picture Sakura had been given perfectly, not a single change in her appearance.

Sakura had finally found Rei, the kidnapped politician's daughter. Her lips curled upward wickedly. She was almost finished the mission now. Briefly noting the lack of a purple bracelet on Rei's wrist and her unblemished skin, Sakura retreated from the shadows, excitement humming through her veins as she sought out Itachi.

She found him alright. Pressed up against a curvaceous woman who was squished against the curtained wall and his larger frame. Sakura couldn't see her face, but saw she had luscious blond locks, an ample bosom and elegant fingers, which were twisted and tangled in Itachi's hair. At least they were both still fully clothed. The same couldn't be said of the other occupants of the room.

The blond let out a breathy moan, "Itachi – ".

Another small wave of recognition washed over her, but Sakura turned away from the obviously intimate moment before she could clearly place it. A light floral perfume drifted over to her. Itachi's lover of course. In a moment of childishness and irritation, Sakura rolled her eyes. _How unprofessional was he being?_

She fled.

What she didn't notice was Itachi's slightly turning face, observing her flight from the corner of his eye.

888

She had been wandering around the aptly dubbed 'Pandora's Room', for well over an hour. The space was immense and packed to the brim with people – it made locating Rei particularly difficult. Sakura had long ago concluded that Rei must have worked exclusively for Pandora's Room; perhaps that was why she lacked the enslaving purple bracelet and why Sakura had been unable to find her elsewhere in Seven. It seemed like a horrible fate for someone unwilling. Although she could not deny the plentiful moans, gasps – shrieks – of pleasure that seemed to echo throughout the room. A horrible fate for some, but a tempting fantasy for another.

Sakura had been leaning against a draped wall, the quality fabric providing a decent cushion for her back and gave her protection from the cold-to-the-touch glass. Nobody had bothered her for the last while or so and she was satisfied with watching the proceedings of the room, scanning the people as they passed her, searching for a head of fire.

 _There_. A halo of crimson hair bobbed past her field of vision and Sakura immediately sprang into action. She surged through the masses of people, cursing her short stature which created difficulties for her in following the redhead. _Where was Rei going?_ Sakura wondered as she struggled through. It seemed as if Rei was in a hurry to get somewhere, moving with a single-minded purpose, not even noticing the obvious pinkette trailing her.

When they reached a lull in the crowd, Sakura found her opportunity. "Rei!" she called out, causing a few curious heads to turn her way. Fortunately, they quickly dismissed her when they deemed her unworthy of their notice. "Rei!"

The redhead stopped mid-step, her foot raised in the air unable to complete the motion. The foot came down with a jerk, as if she was startled. The woman glanced around frantically, hair whipping around her face. It gave Sakura a chance to catch up with her.

"Kagawa Rei?" Sakura asked, hopeful.

Acknowledgement flickered over the woman's face, before she schooled her expression to one that resembled blankness.

"How did you find me?" Rei questioned, already suspicious. She backed away from Sakura, unwittingly cornering herself against a wall.

Sakura held up two spread hands in a friendly gesture. "I'm not here to hurt you. But your father – oh, he will be so glad to know you are safe and alive."

Rei's features twisted and in that span of a moment she resembled a child, one that was lonely, lost and desperately in want of her parents. Her eyebrows drew together, lines creasing her forehead and a frown gracing her lips. "My father sent you?"

"Yes," Sakura said soothingly, stepping slowly towards the girl, so as to not threaten her. Rei seemed inches from tears. "I'm here to get you out."

"Get me out?" Rei repeated dumbly, still in shock.

"I can get you out tonight. I just need you to name a place and time and – "

"No," the redhead interrupted, shaking her head with vigour. "Not tonight. He comes for me every night. I won't be able to get away."

"It doesn't matter; I'll take care of him." _Him_ being Shinoda Kenichi.

"No! He brings guards. There'll be too many for you to take on while you're trying to protect me and kill him. Give me a week. I can give you an opening. Maybe I can loosen him up a bit, so his guard is down. A week, that's all I ask."

Sakura hesitated. A week was a long time; too much could happen in that span of time. Rei could be killed, Sakura could be found out and a whole host of other possibilities. Still, she met the determined look in Rei's eyes and noted her seemingly unharmed emotional and psychological state.

"A week." Sakura conceded, inclining her head slightly.

"A week until what?" Another voice interjected their conversation. Except this one was deep and masculine. Sakura recognized it immediately, a chill snaking down her spine.

"Shinoda-san." Both girls trilled, giving identical polite bows in the direction of the approaching man.

"A week until what?" he repeated, this time his tone was more forceful.

 _Fuck_. Maybe she'd have to kill him now and then make a run for it with Rei. Luckily, it was Rei who chimed in, saving her ass. "A week until the seven year anniversary of Seven, Shinoda-san. We are looking forward to your celebrations."

Kenichi bared his teeth in what Sakura supposed was a smile. He roughly pulled Rei to him, a possessive touch in his hold. He spun her around so that her back faced Sakura and planted a clearly dominating kiss onto Rei's mouth. "Don't you have somewhere to be Rei?" he murmured, all the while caressing her cheek.

"Oh – yes, Shinoda-san. I'll go – right away," she bit out, clearly flustered from the man's attentions. Breaking from his grasp, she gave another small bow before scurrying back into the crowd. Leaving Sakura and Kenichi alone.

She considered breaking his neck then and there, but decided against it. Instead, she smoothed her features, allowing a submissive expression to take over them, willing the vindictive glare to ease from her eyes.

"Ah, Mineko-san, I've been searching for you. How was your first week of work been treating you?" Kenichi asked, all the while make advances into Sakura's personal space. He backed her against the wall, his towering build covering her exits.

She stammered, "It went very well, Shinoda-san. Everyone has been very friendly to me."

Lifting a strand of her pink hair to rub between his fingers, he asked, "I'm usually the first one to have a taste of all of my employees, but work has gotten away with me recently…"

Sakura swallowed, trying to flatten herself against the wall.

"I wonder if the color is natural," he trailed off, but not before dragging his eyes up and down her form appraisingly. He paused slightly at the space between her thighs. "Well, if you're not busy right now, you can come with me – "

"Sorry, I was under the impression that I had the girl for the entire night." A hard voice cutting in and a warm hand grasped Sakura's upper arm, retrieving her from between her place between the wall and Kenichi. It was Itachi.

"I went away for a bathroom break, but if I had known she was in such high demand, I wouldn't have left her," Itachi explained in a light teasing manner, clearly fabricated in Sakura's opinion. Although to complete the act, he wrapped his entire arm around her midsection, hauling her body to him completely. A cloying floral fragrance drifted from him, tickling her nose. "Perhaps you can have her another day?"

Kenichi immediately backed off, a bogus grin on his face. No way was he happy his potential conquest of the night had been stolen. "Of course, our customers' needs are very important."

"Oh? You are the owner of this club? You must be Shinoda-san." Itachi offered a polite handshake forward, his grip on Sakura as tight as ever.

"Ah, yes, yes, it's true. And you must be?"

A sliver of hesitation. "Itachi-san." A name that held some infamy in the shinobi world would have little significance in Kenichi's main domain.

The two shook hands.

"I hope you enjoy your night with Mineko-san." A lecherous glance meant for Sakura.

"Hm."

"Don't let her slip through your fingers."

888

The plan made Itachi nervous, although he didn't verbally voice his concerns to Sakura. It had too many holes, too many undefined variables, and too much unpredictability. The basic structure of the plan was simple enough. Two main objectives: kill Shinoda Kenichi and retrieve Kagawa Rei. Easy enough, right? Wrong, since the entire plan mainly depended on Rei's ability to lull Kenichi into a falsified sense of security. Only then could Sakura finish the job. But Rei was not a shinobi, born and raised and bathed in bloodlust and strategic thinking. She lacked the skills necessary to carry out such a task without making at least one mistake. That was, she was severely underqualified for her role. Not that Sakura saw things in the same light.

"Did Rei tell you what her distraction was going to be?" Itachi asked Sakura, both of them reclining on the hotel couch.

"No, I barely have a chance to see her. She's always in Pandora's Room and I definitely don't want another encounter with Shinoda until I can kill him."

"We need a back-up plan."

"It'll be alright." She turned her torso to face him fully. "You need to relax. We can play things by ear. We'll be fine."

He tried not to let the frustration show on his face, but couldn't stop himself from wrinkling his nose – something Sakura easily caught onto.

She leaned forward and gave him a light shove against his shoulder, barely nudging his body. He didn't give much of a reaction, already acclimated to her playful tendencies. Something he was beginning to secretly enjoy.

"Lighten up Itachi," she said, already dropping the honorifics a while ago. "I've done this with Team Seven too many times to count."

 _Something to be rectified immediately,_ Itachi thought dryly, although he was not all that surprised. "I don't trust Rei."

"I know you don't. You don't trust anything that doesn't have 'Uchiha' in its name." She was teasing him, a grin on her face.

Itachi sniffed disdainfully. "That's not true."

" _Right._ " She smirked, knowing him all too well.

A comfortable silence lapsed between them. One of many in the past two weeks they had shared on this mission together. Sakura basked in the afternoon sunlight streaming through the window, enjoying his quiet companionship. Her back was arched, conforming to the cylindrical nature of the couch's arm. He took the time, while she had her eyes blissfully closed, to admire the glinting, lustrous strands of her pink hair. It was strange that he no longer found the color as offending as before.

"I'm going to miss Kabu," she said suddenly, straightening up. Her lips tipped downwards and she looked to be in a thoughtful mood.

"Why?" Itachi ventured a question.

"It's so beautiful here. It's a different kind of beauty from Konoha. Konoha is all nature – trees, water, mountains. But Kabu… Its beauty made from the hands of humans. _Us_. Isn't that amazing?" She had a far off look in her eyes, thinking about the blinking night lights and the astounding architecture of the buildings.

He supposed she was right about Kabu. An entire world created based on the ingenuity of people – it was quite impressive indeed. But, he wondered if her reluctance to return to Konoha was translating into a vigorous admiration for Kabukicho. Itachi gave his head a nervous scratch before running his fingers through the locks, smoothing out any tangles. "Did you – ah, did you want to explore Kabu more before we leave in a couple of days?"

A bright smile was all he needed for an answer.

They were in the shopping district of Kabu, delighting in the cooking aromas that rose into the sky from the various food vendors. The vendors and their owners lined the streets, hollering at all those who passed by. Delicious, never-seen-before delicacies, they all promised. Itachi could tell Sakura was tempted to try all of them. That was until a particular vendor caught her eye.

It was a small vendor compared to the others, only consisting of a single circular rack on top of a mobile slab of wood. Jewels dangled from the rack, catching the light and sparkling attractively. The owner was an old woman, a shrewd look on her face as she watched Sakura approach with Itachi following.

Sakura tilted her head, left and right, marvelling at the different precious stones.

The old woman stood up from her rickety stool and ambled over. She pointed at a necklace with a dangling jade charm. "For good luck and wisdom," she said.

A dark amethyst adorning a bracelet. "For spiritual protection."

"For money and healing." She tapped a pair of topaz earrings.

A strange kind of understanding washed over the woman the longer she observed Itachi and Sakura. She nodded, finally coming to an epiphany. The woman shuffled to the back of the rack and retrieved a small white stone that came in the form of a charm. "For fertility." She offered it to Sakura knowingly.

The two shinobi both blushed the same shade of red, if that was possible. Sakura backed away from the woman, laughing nervously and shaking her head expressively. "Oh no, you have the wrong impression – "

"It will help with conceiving a healthy baby," the woman stated, not quite grasping the situation. She thrust the offending earrings towards Sakura again.

While Itachi clearly grasped the situation, he was at a lost on how to deal with the awkward moment. Instead he watched Sakura's retreating back as she ran off to another vendor. A tap on his chest brought his attentions back to the stumpy woman.

"I have one for male fertility, if that's what you're looking for."

"Ah, no – we aren't –" He paused, thoroughly at a loss. "We aren't trying for children right now."

"Oh." A disappointed expression passed over her face.

"But I'll take the jade necklace," Itachi said, as a way to make it up to the old woman.

888

A small flare of chakra was all the warning she got before a pair of warm hands settled around her shoulders. He tucked wayward strands of rose locks over a shoulder before looping the necklace around and clasping it. She looked down when she felt a cold heavy weight press down on her collarbone. A single jade stone dangled from a thin leather strand. Simple, but impressive in its own way. Sakura tilted her head upwards catching his onyx eyes.

"For good luck and wisdom." Itachi repeated the old woman's words. Enjoying the feel of her hair, he rearranged the locks back to the way they were before.

She narrowed her eyes and gave small huff. She knew how gullible Itachi could be when it came to social interactions. Inwardly grinning, she decided to play with him. "Are you saying I need wisdom? Are you questioning my intelligence?" Her tone was demanding and her posture became angry.

Itachi frowned, "Ah, no – I didn't mean it like that, Sakura." He fumbled through his words and took a precautionary step away from Sakura.

What an odd man. Ah, but she wasn't done with him yet.

"I hope you don't think my love can be bought with just some jewellery," she said in a semi-serious tone, hands on her hips that were thrust to one side. But knowing Itachi, he would only have seen the seriousness of it.

He was flustered, although no color rose in his cheeks like before, his posture tensed – a tell-tale sign. "No – my cousin, he recommended I give gifts for a good relationship." Itachi was incredibly embarrassed and shy as he said those words, which only gave Sakura more pause.

Typically, Itachi was a calm and collected man, a level-headed thinker on all missions. Smooth with the ladies if his popularity at the club was any indication – especially with a certain blonde haired woman. But, when it came to relationships, even just a simple friendship, it seemed Itachi fell apart at the seams. He stammered, hesitated, even sometimes _blushed_ and Sakura savoured those moments that reminded her of his imperfect humanity.

Sakura laughed, finding amusement at his expense. Suddenly, she looped an arm around Itachi, tugging him towards a delicious smelling food vendor. "It'll take more than some gifts to win me over. But, you know I'm only teasing you Itachi. It's very nice, thank you."

It was a common occurrence now. The way she threaded her fingers through his and began to tow him away. It came naturally to her, just as it did to him. It was so much easier and quicker to physically lead someone to another place than to properly articulate their destination. And sometimes, like now, Sakura wanted the destination to be a surprised.

She pulled him further down the street, to another food vendor that had a sweet caramel scent pervading the air around it. "A dango stick please," she ordered, handing over the proper coins to the man behind the counter.

It wasn't long before the man handed over a long skewer sporting three balls, each colored differently. She handed it over to Itachi, who looked bewildered by the entire exchange.

"Did you buy me dango because my mom told you to?" Itachi asked, seeming as if he was grasping at an explanation for the unexpected action.

"Don't be ridiculous. Sasuke once told me you love dango." She smiled, urging him to take a bite.

He did, closing his eyes and seemingly savoring the taste. "Thank you Sakura."

"Besides –" She leaned onto her tippy toes, stretching so that her mouth could become level with his. Predictably, he stilled, the dango stick mere inches from his mouth. "Maybe I just wanted a taste too." Sakura took a small bite, before flashing him a wink and a brilliant smirk, and waltzing away.

888

Sakura was going to be the death of him. Too confusing, unpredictable, spontaneous – but, it was a breath of fresh air for him. He watched her retreating form, a bounce in her step, illuminated hair swaying back and forth across her back. They had become friends, that much was obvious. Over the course of the mission, he had become accustomed to her presence – and enjoyed it. Her light soothing touches at night came back to him. He gave a small smile, one that was not caught by her eyes and Itachi was struck by a sense of serenity. A marriage with Sakura? There could be worse things in the world.

But the reminder of the arrange marriage brought back other feelings. Ones Itachi would have rather suppressed. Fears and a deep-seated sense of guilt, one that could not be chased away. As Sakura's form began to blend in with the moving crowd, becoming indistinguishable, Itachi felt a flash of something indiscernible. In that single moment he glimpsed her fading back, it was as if she was running away – from him, their marriage, _her duty_. He darted forward.

"Sakura!" Itachi seized a hold of her arm, spinning her around to face him.

A crease appeared between her brows and she gave his hand around her wrist an experimental tug. "Itachi?"

"The mission will be over soon, will you be travelling back to Konoha with me?"

Understanding crossed over her face and her eyes narrowed at him. It only served to demonstrate how incredibly delicate their trust in each other was at that point.

"What a silly question. There's no rush – why are you asking me this?" Immediately, she was on the defensive. Sakura yanked her wrist away from him, a growl of some sort breaking free of her throat.

Surely, she wouldn't be dumb enough to try running. Would she risk a life of a missing-nin for her so-called _freedom?_ Either way, she was trapped. She didn't fool him one bit.

"Where are you going? You have obligations in Konoha." Itachi reached for her again – both of them confrontational.

" _I know_. Can you fucking stop doubting me?" She spun away from him, continuing on the same direction she was before. "Look, can we just worry about one thing at a time? We'll deal with this when we get there."

"You won't try to run?" He was walking side-by-side with her.

"No."

He never pegged Sakura as a liar.

888

Late in the night, Itachi snuck from the hotel rooming, seeking refuge under a large blossoming tree. Sakura had went to bed long ago, allowing Itachi the privacy to contact a confidante back in Konoha. Briefly flashing through several seals, a strong wind blew through the clearing, rustling the dangling leaves on the tree as the jutsu activated. The flickering form of his cousin and best friend appeared in the space in front of Itachi.

His cousin sported closely cropped locks of that signature dark Uchiha color and large onyx eyes. Although, different from the majority of the Uchiha clan, they were open, friendly and approachable. _Approachable_ , an apt description for the man. Uchiha Shisui was gregarious to say the least, and Itachi's most trustworthy friend. Partners in crime, they were.

"Shisui," Itachi greeted, faint affection coloring his tone.

"Ah, Itachi! What brings you here? Or, what brings me to you?" Shisui darted forward to give his cousin a brotherly slap on the back, forgetting that he was only an apparition and cleanly phasing through Itachi's body.

"Shisui," Itachi repeated, this time a bit sharper.

"Itachi means business today," Shisui responded in a jesting manner. Nevertheless, he straightened himself in front of Itachi and crossed his arms together. "Did you call me for more women advice? 'Cause let me tell you, women just love it when you stick - "

Itachi raised an eyebrow, but otherwise made no other movements.

His cousin sighed. "Alright, what is it Itachi?"

"I think Sakura is planning on running after the mission is over."

" _What?_ That's impossible, she's the Godaime's apprentice. There's no way Tsunade-sama would let her do that."

"She was being too evasive and defensive when I asked her earlier. She's up to something. I need you to get here as soon as possible."

"You think a person Sakura has never met before can convince her to come back to Konoha?"

"No." Itachi ran a hand through his hair agitatedly, a maneuver Shisui had become rather accustomed to. "Bring Naruto and Sasuke, they can talk sense into her. She's too – emotional." _And I don't know how to deal with it_ , was the unspoken part of his sentence. Not that Uchiha Itachi would ever admit such a thing.

"Alright, we'll leave right away. Is there anything –"

"Itachi?" Another voice cut in. Soft and timid, it belonged to a pink haired girl. She approached him from behind warily, a single hand rubbing her sleepy eyes. "Are you speaking to someone?"

Shisui had long flickered out of existence.

"No." Itachi's reply was clipped.

In her exhausted haze, Sakura didn't suspect a single thing. She dropped her hand from her face and peered at him, innocently. "Can you not sleep?"

He didn't answer her, instead, gently guiding her back into their hotel room and settling her onto the bed.

"I swear I heard voices." She was becoming more insistent.

"It must be dreams. Go to sleep, we have a busy day tomorrow." He pushed the covers over her form, taking care to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Did you need me you help you to sleep?" She mumbled, her words becoming incoherent again.

Itachi wondered what exactly alerted Sakura to Shisui's presence, considering her rather confused demeanor. Perhaps it was a sixth sense of hers? Ah – that would be ridiculous.

Her breaths evened out and she was lost to the world.

 **A/N:** At this point, they're just trying to establish a friendship of some sort, albeit it is an unconventional one. Also, Sakura really just loves to tease Itachi, since his reactions (or lack of) are really humorous to her. Besides, it's not as if he gives those reactions to just anyone. Itachi is also a naturally a very suspicious person, he is just learning to trust Sakura and doesn't believe everything that comes out of her mouth. But we'll see.

By the way, Pandora's room has hints of lust and wrath mingled together. It is my main representation of wrath though.


End file.
